The Sigil of Lucifer
by tooxi
Summary: Draco Malfoy is in need of Dark Magic and Hermione Granger is the perfect witch to help him get it. Post-war Seventh Year. M for later chapters. Mostly written but still writing/editing 100kplus words.
1. Chapter 1

"Ass olus ram's noses,"

"Incorrect," the Fat Lady replied coolly.

"Oh, come on! Harry, you have to help me. Please tell me you heard Hermione say the password?"

Harry raised his hands and shook his head. "I was talking to Ginny, mate." Ron gave him a small glare before turning back to the resilient portrait in front of him. "Didn't they tell Prefects before term started?" Harry dodged Ron's hand as he swung around to land a punch on him.

"You're cruising for a bruising, you are," replied Ron, as Harry playfully dodged more of his swings. They calmed down, with Harry rubbing his shoulder in fake pain and Ron strolling back to the Fat Lady, who had seen more idiotic things from the pair in front of her that tonight was rather dull.

"Where is she, though? I haven't seen her since we left the Great Hall," Harry breathed as he looked back towards the door to the Grand Staircase.

"Probably went to the library," Ron replied with his hands on his hips still staring in frustration at the portrait, "she's mental like that."

"Gee, thanks, Ron," came a sarcastic voice from behind them. Hermione walked over to both Harry and Ron, a small first-year boy in tow. "I don't suppose you remember that Professor McGonagall told both of us to lead the first years to the tower," she said, brushing past them both towards the portrait hole.

"Well, it's a brilliant job you did, Hermione. You only seem to have brought one with you!" Ron scoffed. Hermione scowled at him over her shoulder, but he sent her a sweet smirk in return.

"If you hadn't of been dawdling with Harry, you would have realised that every Gryffindor first-year student is already upstairs! John, here, got lost when he went to the bathroom. Honestly! I'm surprised you both are still here, it's been half an hour," she pointed.

"Well we, uh, forgot the password," Harry said sheepishly.

"I don't know how you two cope. Defeated the darkest wizard of all time yet foiled by your old pensioner hearing," she chuckled. "Asphodelus ramoses," she spoke clearly to the Fat Lady.

"Correct, my dear," the Fat Lady responded sweetly, looking lovingly down at Hermione, "and I do sincerely thank you for what you did for the Wizarding world." She gave a graceful bow before swinging her door open to allow the Gryffindor's inside the almost empty common room. Hermione beamed as she led the way.

The little boy ran off to join the others his age who were all heading up the stairs to bed. Hermione heard him loudly exclaim to them that he had just encountered Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger for a whole five minutes! They squealed and asked him to recount everything that had happened.

The Golden Trio slumped simultaneously onto the cosy couch in front of the fire and sighed contentedly. The Common Room went quiet, and after thirty seconds all three of them burst out into fits of giggles. It felt so good to Hermione that all was well with them, even after the war, nothing had changed between them. They had only grown stronger.

She admitted she was worried that they might drift apart, but she supposed that after all, they had been through, that it was a pointless thing to have considered. They loved each other too much. When they finally stopped laughing, Hermione rested her head on Harry's shoulder and held Ron's hand. She and Ron were doing well. The three of them had spent the summer together, and even though she and Ron were going slowly, Hermione was content when they had finally gotten together.

"Finally can get some shut-eye this year," Ron yawned.

"Don't jinx it," Harry scolded, "I'm absolutely spent," he yawned as well. Hermione pursed her lips with a smile.

"I doubt it," she whispered smiling to herself, almost falling asleep from the warmth and cosiness. "You're always looking for trouble."

"Trouble usually finds me!" The three of them laughed; the sound was musical.

"Mind, I wouldn't put it past Malfoy to be a wanker and ruin it all. I suppose he'll be hell this year since he got away with it all," Ron mused bitterly.

"Oh Ron, please forget about him!" Hermione whined lifting her head off Harry's shoulder. "He's nothing but a pompous wimp, who got caught doing something he was dragged into."

"All I'm saying is an apology would be nice – we did save his life, 'Mione."

"I defended him at his trial," Harry reminded her, "but knowing him, I think he'll take advantage of that fact and be an absolute tosser for it."

"His parents were reprimanded deeply, I doubt he'll be happy at all this year," Hermione contended. "Besides, were he to go on a bloody-purity rant, I'm quite sure he'd get his last comeuppance, and he must know that."

Ron guffawed, choking as he went. "Hermione, you must be joking. Did you not see the article in the Daily Prophet? His mum is living in their bloody Manor with all her riches and servants. Sure, Lucius lost his job but he still has the family business, and I bet you anything that Malfoy isn't going to say a word of 'Thanks' to any of us for what we did for his sodding little arse."

"His parents received the Dementor's Kiss, Ron! At least his mother is allowed to stay in their home, but I doubt that she is doing anything other than sitting in a chair and drooling…"

"Well, yeah. S'pose that is a bit of an inconvenience …" muttered Ron.

"He probably won't want to go home during the holidays or once we leave Hogwarts."

"What – you going to ask him over for Christmas?" Ron peered at Hermione who looked at him primly.

"No, of course not! It's Malfoy," she spurned. "I'm just intimating to you both that we should consider that he didn't realise what he was getting himself into because he was born into it."

"He had several chances to prove himself, Hermione. He did what he had to do to do to avoid getting himself or mummy killed. That includes having mouldy Voldy as a perpetuating house guest," Ron countered, with Harry nodding in agreement.

Hermione frowned a little and watched Ron draw circles on her wrist with his thumb. "To quote Dumbledore, 'It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends.' I think that stopped Malfoy in his tracks."

"Reiterating that he is a wimp, as you said."

"…Yes," Hermione sighed. "But I think we should give him a chance–"

"–Hundredth, more like," Harry interjected.

"–He did help us at Malfoy Manor, remember?"

"Do you also remember that he watched you being tortured by his aunt and did nothing about it? I'm telling you, Hermione, that little git has got no appreciation for what we did … saved his bloody arse, didn't we?" Ron ranted. "Twice at the battle as well."

"Not much to do when you have Voldemort living in your house and breathing down your neck other than try and survive."

Ron and Harry did concede to that.

"Well if he's the same as the old Malfoy, then I won't give him the time of day," Hermione finished tersely.

"Ha! Good luck" mumbled Ron with a shake of his head. The trio remained quiet on the couch for a few minutes before Hermione felt Ron's head lolling to the side and heard him fall asleep with a deep snore. Harry chuckled before hoisting himself up and saying goodnight to Hermione before heading up to the dormitory to sleep.

Vainly, Hermione tried stirring Ron awake. Conjuring up a blanket and a pillow using her wand she tucked Ron in, before heading upstairs to get some well-deserved sleep for herself.

She tried, lying in her four-poster bed, but the longer she lay there, the more awake she felt. The war had finished only a few months ago, and now that all the business with Harry and the Horcruxes had finished, she finally found the time to think about everything other than destroying Voldemort.

It was instantaneous, like a switch. Survival Mode had been switched off, and now there was a stillness. Hermione started to tearlessly sob, her body convulsing under the weight of her weeps and emotion. She wordlessly cast a Silencio around her four-poster drapes, completely blocking off her heavy stunted breaths from the girls sleeping around her.

She hadn't expected everyone to come back happy, walking comfortably like how it used to be; everything had changed. There were deaths and life-affecting injuries, and families ripped apart by opposing sides, structures needing rebuilding, restoration of magic, and people needing help.

Harry and Hermione had visited each family in the Great Hall and did what they could to console those who had lost a friend or a family member. They had reached the Weasley's last, watched as Arthur and Molly held each other with tears streaming down their cheeks. Watched Percy, Bill, Charlie, Ginny, Ron and George cling to Fred. No one knew what to do, they just … waited.

Harry and Hermione waited, mourning with them until adults came to help. In those moments, bravery didn't exist; all were children back in school waiting for a parent to tell them all was going to be okay. For a long while, it wouldn't be.

It didn't take long for the likes of the Daily Prophet to come interrogating people, asking for first-hand accounts of the stand-off between He Who Must Not Be Named and the 'heroic' and 'courageous' Harry Potter. Not many people were interested in answering, too physically and emotionally drained to form coherent sentences. The Prophet and other news and gossip journalists were quickly ushered out of the hall from where Harry, Ron and Hermione were – them being the primary focus for headlines – unable to get pictures or statements.

They both had stayed with the Weasley's for a couple of weeks. Charlie, Bill and Fleur also visited the house. There were arguments about how and where Fred would rest, but it was George who quietly offered for Fred's cremation. Ginny suggested for his ashes to be separated and put in multiple places and it was Percy who suggested they wear pendants so Fred could travel the world with them all. Hermione said she knew a spell to make the necklaces impenetrable.

The house was quiet, but no one could sit about doing nothing; they each went from task to task until dinner time, with few interjections in between.

Harry and Hermione returned to Grimmauld Place, which they had found had been ransacked by the Death Eaters. They imagined that it had been Yaxley and his team that had raided the house. They looked into Regulus' bedroom and found it quite badly burnt. Harry supposed that it had been Voldemort's doing. The rest of the house was just as dark as it usually was with twice as much mess.

They slept in the same room, the one they had at the beginning of their expedition with Ron. Ron came around a few days later, and the three of them spent their time together, not bothering to read the Daily Prophet or listen to any news on the radio, for once not hungry for information.

Oddly, it felt much more natural to be the three of them again, alone. Having spent a year living in a tent with minimal contact with others, one might suppose they would need to do something entirely different.

Hermione had started to clear up Grimmauld Place, and with Harry's permission, painted the walls – the muggle way – along with her two best friends. Ginny came along and helped out too, and it then became the four of them instead of the three. A month after the war, the house finally looked welcoming with light walls that made it brighter, also undergoing a proper spring cleaning. Sirius's room remained unchanged, whether they wanted to change it or not (which they didn't) because of the charms Sirius had placed in the room.

Harry had gone to find the Dursley's and tell them they could move back to Little Whinging, back to No. 4 Privet Drive. It turned out that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon quite enjoyed the fact that he came back to see them to tell them the news. His uncle had spluttered, "about ruddy time the boy paid us some respect", Harry quoted to Ron and Hermione later that day. Apparently, Dudley had started working in Woolworths although he was beginning his IT Foundation course in September. Ron had just nodded along to this information, entirely clueless as to what Woolworths or IT was.

It was during these summer months that Hermione took to searching for her parents. She couldn't quite admit to Harry or Ron just yet to what extent she took in protecting her family, and only told the Ministry of how immediate the issue was. Hermione also knew that it was highly improbable, as she was told by the staff at St Mungo's Hospital, that recovering her parent's memories would be very difficult. She remembered how far gone Gilderoy Lockhart was in her fifth year, and he was in professional care for several years. It was a tremendous, never-ending headache.

The three of them had been asked to become Aurors, to which Harry and Ron were thinking to accept but Hermione had persuaded them to get their full qualifications and to take their last year at Hogwarts. The Ministry was perfectly happy with this and extended their proposition as a formal, indefinite invitation to be part of the Auror department.

Now here they were, back in Hogwarts, ready to take on their eighth year, how their seventh year should've gone. The building was still undergoing repairs as were the students and staff. Several parents were apprehensive about letting their children go back to the school, especially after hearing so little in the newspapers from key players in the war. They were hesitant because there were several Death Eaters still at large, many of whom had pledged their allegiance whole-heartedly with Voldemort, so it was tense in the Wizarding Community.

Harry had apologised to Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna. He hadn't meant to bring their world to ruin or cause any of it. Of course, no one listened to him and told him that Voldemort was more significant than that – a war had been imminent no matter if Harry was involved or not.

Harry was asked to make a speech at the Start-of-Term Feast, which he bravely did. His speech was emotional, inspiring and strong. Before he had even finished the speech, everyone was on their feet, clapping and calling out. One thing was for sure; no one thought Harry was crazy anymore.

Professor McGonagall announced that the school had erected a memorial for everyone lost during the battle by the Great Lake. There was to be a service that weekend outside by the embankment.

It seemed that at that moment everyone was united under one house, one collective. A movement of people that had all suffered grief in some form, whether it was with their friends, family or even themselves, and as Hermione had glanced around the hall, she saw that others, like herself, had started to hold hands with their neighbours.

Hermione sighed and looked up at the canopy of her four-poster. She pulled her wand out of the waistband of her pyjama trousers. With a delicate swirl, she conjured an enchanted ceiling – a sparkling cloud – dotted with stars and galaxies, similar to the ceiling in the Great Hall. The light twinkled and danced mystically down at her, no longer conjuring thoughts of Divination class but of the heavens.

She lay there with a glazed look for a long time, only rolling onto her side to rest her dry eyes. She wondered if the girls in her dorm had silenced their space around their beds as well, wreaked with their own grief.

Somehow, and at a time she knew not, she fell quietly to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione awoke in a groggy stupor after having had a surprisingly deep sleep. She could hear the other girls walking around their room and so she pulled back her drapes.

"Morning, Hermione!" Parvati said cheerily.

"Good morning," Hermione yawned, "what time is it?"

"Seven-Fifteen," Parvati said after looking at her delicate wristwatch. She was applying her make-up at the vanity table in their room. Hermione said good morning to the other two girls in her dormitory who replied kindly back, but she hardly knew them and they kept to themselves. Hermione stretched before diving into her school trunk and pulling out some clean clothes and using her wand to magic her clothes into the supplied wardrobe in the room.

"Parvati?" Hermione inquired. The girl hummed in response, her mouth wide open as she applied her mascara; Hermione took this as a sign to continue. "Can you wait for me so we can go down to breakfast together?"

Parvati paused her ministrations and turned, surprised by Hermione's question. "Oh, yeah, of-of course I'll wait." Hermione smiled at her roommate and moved to the ensuite bathroom. After her shower and a quick drying spell for her hair, Hermione moved back to her bedroom.

"You know, Hermione…" Parvati trailed off.

"Mhm?" Hermione hummed due to hair clips held between her lips.

"I always wondered why we never really spoke. I always thought of you as the tomboy, bookworm with the frizzy hair but you're quite cool."

"Ha! Erm, thanks?" Hermione replied as she started to dress in her school uniform.

"Don't think that that was an insult! I meant it like how I thought we were too different to be friends. You stand up for yourself and others, and you're utterly clever, it's cool. I regret making fun of you and Ron and others.

"Lav and I had a good relationship, and I guess since our sixth year – when she went a bit nutty over Ron – I felt like we got on less and less. Not that I don't miss Lav at all," Parvati worried as she thought Hermione might judge her for her words, again. "I miss her loads; she was my best friend.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is, is that since before the war had started I never really had the chance to…to…"

"It's okay, Parvati. I understand," Hermione nodded at the girl. "People change along with their opinions. I didn't feel like being alone in this tower, and well, we've always gotten along. A-and despite my dislike of Divination, I always thought you were cool." Hermione and Parvati both laughed briefly at the silliness. "It was a shame that even though we had the DA in our fifth year and were freer to be ourselves, I suppose mostly due to Umbridge, we couldn't exactly express it outside the Room of Requirement as much as we would've liked. At least, that's what I think, but we're all closer now than we have ever been. It's a shame what happened to the room…"

"What? What happened to the room? I miss the DA. I learnt quite a bit from Harry and you, and if it weren't for those meetings, I wouldn't have been able to hex anyone at the battle. It was fun, wasn't it; sneaking around past that awful witch. Do you know what happened to her? Last I heard was last September she got hexed after interrogating a witch. Nasty little toad she is."

Hermione laughed as she made her way to the vanity table to do her hair up using Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. Hermione waited for the other girls to leave the dorm room before answering Parvati.

"Well, the Room … During the battle Harry, Ron and I needed to get into there, and Malfoy and his cronies followed us. Remember Vincent Crabbe? H-he cast a Fiendfyre curse and was engulfed by the flames," Hermione paused briefly, glancing towards Parvati, "and the room caught alight with dark magic. Crabbe didn't know the counter-curse for it. Otherwise, he might've survived… and it never goes out unless charmed to… I have a theory that the room is still burning in an inferno."

"That poor boy… You know, he was threatened to do You Know Who's bidding or else they would have raped his sister – so disgustingly horrible."

Hermione gaped at the girl through the mirror and swivelled around to face her. "That's awful! To think I was almost holding it against him because he threw a killing curse at me."

"Mm, I'm not surprised. I didn't think Crabbe had it in him… mind I wasn't sure he had much in him before it all…"

Hermione chewed her lip and wondered whether Malfoy had a similar fate put aside for him. Perhaps he would've joined them if it weren't for that. She then remembered that Malfoy rarely did anything for anyone else. Both of the girls sighed mournfully.

"Umbridge has a trial coming up soon for her sadistic crimes against Muggle-borns."

"She better not get away with it, that cow deserves everything that she gets when she heads to Azkaban. Merlin, what I would give to send her smug little smirk to that hell hole. 'Ahem, ahem,'" imitated Parvati.

"You and me both. Umbridge is just as bad as Death Eaters, but of course, because she's in the system it is all Humpty-dory, brushed under the carpet. It makes me wonder what other corruptions are going on in the Ministry."

Parvati gave Hermione a knowingly look. "Ha! It's been going on since its conception. Mr Malfoy, for one, didn't hold back when it came to bribery and manipulation. Perhaps now that he's gone…"

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. She would like to see a change within the Ministry; it will be a difficult task with all the powerful magic tossed around. "Shall we head to breakfast?"

"You're going out like that?"

Taken aback, Hermione screwed up her face in slight confusion. Was there something wrong?

"Here, let me do something for you. Let me just tell you that now You Know Who is gone, you can finally live a woman's life."

Parvati pulled out some cream and brown eyeshadows, took Hermione's chin in her hand and applied the colours subtly to her eyelids. She ran a thin brown line of eyeliner and then applied mascara, also adding a rosy blush to Hermione's cheeks. She twirled her around to look into the mirror.

"Oh, wow. It looks quite nice…"

"Yes, you do. See how simple that was? Ugh, I've wanted to do that for years! I thought you finally cracked it at the Yule Ball, but then you went back to your old self. Not that your old self is bad; you're naturally pretty – of course, your buck teeth disappeared, and the hair potion did help some."

"In honesty, I never really thought about make-up… but I can see its benefits…"

Hermione primed herself in front of the mirror and gave a sly wink to Parvati's reflection. Hermione knew she didn't need make-up to make anyone like her or that wearing it made her feel any more feminine than she already felt, but it made her feel more confident that she had a healthy glow on her face. She hadn't tried much since her fourth year.

"Right, let's go, or else we'll be skipping breakfast, and quite frankly I'm craving a full-English…with hash browns and black pudding – yummy!"

"A full-Scottish, you mean."

Parvati waved her off, "breakfast is breakfast."

The girls fell into comfortable conversation about their upcoming year that it felt quite natural to be talking about something other than the war. It was a lovely change that Hermione welcomed wholeheartedly.

"Mione!" Hermione heard her name called from her red-haired friend, Ginny, who was jogging towards her from the portrait hole. "I h-had to come g-get you," she huffed, out of breath.

"What? What is it? Is someone hurt? Who is it, Gin?" asked Hermione, fear gripping her heart.

"No, no, no, nothing like that. The Minister is here! Shacklebolt – he's in the Great Hall talking to McGonagall – you better catch him fast, he looked as if he was about to leave."

Hermione rushed past Ginny and out the portrait hole.

"Are you coming, Gin?" Parvati asked perplexedly.

"No, you guys go a-ahead. I'll," wheezed Ginny, "catch up. Merlin, I need to seriously start work out," she breathed before slumping into the armchair.

Hermione ran down the Grand Staircase two steps at a time and bolted towards the Great Hall. She saw Shacklebolt talking to Professor Slughorn (who happened to stay to teach Potions again) in the middle of the stretch up to the High Table where the rest of the professors sat. She was vaguely aware that she was drawing attention as she jogged towards the two men.

"Oh, Miss Granger?" Slughorn said with a fluster, his nervous laughter trilled from his lips. "I am just discussing business with the Minister for a moment, if you wouldn't mind asking your questions about class when we've actually started lessons," Slughorn said, not unkindly, although he nervously shifted his eyes to the minister.

"Professor, please I would just like to let Kingsley know that I need to speak with him before he leaves," she looked pleadingly at the Minister for Magic.

Shacklebolt gave a grave and tentative nod before he turned back to speak with Slughorn.

Out of respect, Hermione turned around and sat in the nearest seat to wait for their conversation to finish. She saw that Parvati had just entered the hall, slightly out of breath but she headed straight over to the Gryffindor table to sit next to Dean and Seamus.

"What's got your knickers in a twist, Granger?" A deep voice asked. Hermione twisted in her seat to find that she had sat down at the Slytherin table.

As she turned to the source of the voice, she caught a glimpse at Draco Malfoy sitting across from her. He was chewing his cereal slowly, clearly affected by the current situation as he delicately perched his spoon above the bowl; he glared at her through his lashes, which she noted came with a minuscule, threatening lift of his brow.

Hermione turned again to face the man who had spoken to her and found Theodore Nott looking mildly amused. Her eyes flicked over his shoulder to the dark Blaise Zabini who had lent forward in curiosity.

"Has the kitty-cat caught her tongue?" Nott asked her with a smirk.

Hermione quickly debated whether she ought to indulge his teasing, knowing full well that the Nott family had been practising Death Eaters, or give Theodore the benefit of the doubt.

"My business is my own," she replied, turning her body to face the minister.

"Touchy, touchy... but if that were true, you'd have kept your business with Weasley to yourself. 'Hem, hem,'" he mimicked Umbridge, "'Snogging in the hallways is strictly prohibited.'"

Blaise and Theo laughed boyishly, but Hermione ignored him.

"Granger thinks you're beneath her, Theo," Zabini said with a chuckle.

"I wish," Theo grinned.

"I meant that you suck at magic, you idiot. She's clearly your senior."

"Nothing I can't get down with." Theo quipped, his hand poking into Hermione's side as if to tickle her.

Hermione spun around on the bench and grabbed the finger poking into her side. "If you must know, and I only say this to get it through your thick-headed and dim-witted skull, I cannot find my parents," she spat. "Now, unless you know where they are, which I surmise that you don't, then I suggest you mind your own business because I certainly do not care for yours." She released his finger.

Theo's eyes were wide with surprise and approval. Hermione scoffed and shook her head as she watched him turn to his friends and smirk. Blaise nudged him hard and gave an exasperated sigh. Malfoy was watching them, clearly reconsidering his chosen breakfast companions before his eyes flicked towards Hermione. She eyed him briefly before averting her gaze, still feeling his hot glare on her.

"Hermione," came Shacklebolt's deep voice. She stood quickly, but the minister was already standing close behind her. "I apologise, it is not easy being the minister. I am pulled left, right and centre."

She nodded, eager to hear him speak.

"Unfortunately, I cannot bring you good news. The Aurors haven't been able to locate your parents, and I was told that even if they were found – I don't doubt that they will be – the memory charm you placed on them may be too strong to reverse, likely due to your magical abilities.

"You're no ordinary witch, and so I hope you'll understand that receiving the worst could quite likely be the scenario that we find ourselves. I regret having to say it…" Kingsley placed a hand on her shoulder.

Hermione felt her eyes prick in pain, but she swallowed her tears and nodded hesitantly, a lump forming in her throat.

"We will keep you informed of the situation." The minister gave her arm a tight squeeze before making his way to depart the Great Hall. A small crowd of students trailed after him with their own queries.

Hermione sat down slowly, her hands balled into fists.

"Good morning, Slytherins," McGonagall's strong accent came from behind the group at the table. The men around Hermione had been quiet, each trying to process what they had just heard. "I have with me your class schedules and also to let you know that my office is open, should you need to visit me for some biscuits and tea…" hummed McGonagall, who was flicking through her papers.

"Mr Nott," McGonagall said sternly, handing Theo his timetable, "Mr Zabini, Mr Malfoy and here is yours, Miss–" McGonagall took an abrupt pause as she did a double take. "Miss Granger? Miss Granger, are y-"

"I'll take her schedule, professor," Malfoy interrupted quietly. He looked briefly towards the others before settling his eyes back onto the headmistress who was looking at him with piercing eyes and pursed lips. He seemed frustrated at the stare off and so sighed heavily before harshly nudging Hermione underneath the table with his foot.

Hermione jerked her body in shock. She glared at Malfoy as she bent down to rub her sore shin, who in return curled his lip and went back to eating his breakfast. Hermione turned towards the headmistress and stood up to speak directly to her and without the company of the others. She winced slightly at the sharp pain that shot up her leg; she would get Malfoy back for that one.

"Thank you, professor. I was just…" she trailed off weakly.

"Hermione, dear – are you alright? You seem out of sorts…" The woman took a more personal approach now that they had stepped away from the table, her hand resting gently on Hermione's arm as if to stable her.

"Oh, yes, Professor," she said entirely unconvinced by her own voice.

She didn't want to worry McGonagall; it would be unfair to burden all of her issues onto her when she had so many more students in more unfortunate situations. Hermione did, after all, spend the previous year living in a tent being viciously sought after by Death Eaters and Snatchers and managed to survive one of the most violent battles of Wizarding history.

McGonagall looked at the girl and raised her brows as if to say 'I know you don't mean that', and then patted her arm in a motherly sort of way. "I came over to speak to individual groups about our new programme, which Madam Pomfrey will be holding… Perhaps you might want to visit her at some point?"

Hermione smiled warmly back at the woman and felt her throat contract; she couldn't deny the love that she felt for her professor after all of these years.

"I'll think about it, Professor."

McGonagall's eye twinkled as she twirled her wand to procure Hermione's timetable from the stack in her hands. She handed it to her then moved away to give the rest of the schedules out to the students and to tell them about the programme.

Hermione released the air from her lungs, patted down her skirt, pinched her cheeks and walked swiftly to the Gryffindor table to eat some breakfast, minutes before the bell rang for class.

Theo and Blaise turned their heads to face Draco, all three of them having watched Granger sidle back to her table. They looked at Draco expectantly.

"Seems there are still problems in paradise," Blaise said with a sigh. He tossed the last of his toast into his mouth and clapped his hands to rid the crumbs.

"Well, hopefully, Granger chooses to let her poor aching heart be comforted by my ever-so-open arms," Theo chuckled with a waggle of his brows. Draco couldn't help but sneer at his friend for having thought it.

"When did you start chasing that skirt?"

"Didn't you see her?" Theo replied with bulging eyes. "The way she flew through that battlefield – it was wild – and she didn't mutter a spell from her lips, but there they came out of her wand. I'll say this; I wouldn't like to cross wands with her. Also, she's crazy hot." They each turned to look over at Granger who sat at the neighbouring table and was whispering to Potter.

"She's nothing special," dismissed Draco.

"I agree," Blaise said while packing his book bag up and getting to his feet. "I'll admit she's quite pretty and clever, but she's a Mudblood. She has no class. Although, you know who's pretty? The Weaslette."

Draco spluttered on his pumpkin juice as he tried to comprehend what Blaise had just said. Was this a trick? Were both of them going barmy over a Mudblood and a blood traitor? Had he woken up that day with everything back to front? He must have, or else everything would make sense in the world.

"I don't know what has gotten into you two today and quite frankly I don't want to know; just get back to your usual selves why don't you," Draco said unnerved. His lip curled in distaste at the very thought of the Gryffindor girls.

Ginny Weasley was by no means ugly, but she was uncouth; a hot-headed witch whose farmyard attitude and rough demeanour could only have come about from having six brothers, a common family education and poor decorum. He barely knew the girl, but she wasn't presentable.

Granger was an anomaly; another thing entirely. Sure, he would admit she had scrubbed up quite a bit; her hair was no longer frizzy, and he didn't know where her bucked teeth ran off to, but they had. She was… a Mudblood. Clever, for sure, there was no doubt about it, but her dirty blood and unrelenting shrillness made her a tiresome chit of a witch. Her life was so impossibly plebeian, and her eagerness to prove otherwise was just her persistent need for attention, so of course, Potter and Weaslebee took her in. She was arrogant, prude and far too self-righteous in his eyes. Not to mention she was dating Weasley – that alone was a third strike offence.

Draco shook his head and brought himself back to the present and looked disturbingly at his friends who were now both standing and gawping down at him as if he had gone mental.

"What?" Draco asked, noting their wide, imploring eyes. "Merlin, you two really are quite tiresome, you know that?"

"'I'll take her schedule, professor'" mimicked Theo. Draco scoffed and shook his head dismissively. He stood up and grabbed his rucksack.

"She wouldn't bloody take her schedule, and I was hardly going to wait around for McGonagall to ruin my morning, which–I might add–she has. Got bloody Muggle Studies first." Draco looked scathingly at his timetable, muttering a quick "ridiculous" as he stuffed the sheet into his trouser pocket. "And I bloody bet that frizzy-haired woman is in it too; as if she doesn't already know enough about muggles… You'd think that after defecting you wouldn't have to show up to such farces," he spat sullenly.

"Yeah... You've got me convinced…" Blaise said blandly, "I'd watch out, Theo." Draco sneered at him for his undesired opinion.

"Ah, a little healthy competition is alright; I bet he wouldn't win anyway," Theo said cockily, as he strode ahead.

Theo's reputation was almost as impressively witch filled as Draco's was, but with far less character and refinement. Even with the war, Draco had found that women wanted comfort, and whether it was in the arms of a Death Eater, it hardly mattered because they were having sex with Draco Malfoy. Even so, many didn't stay for the name; they stayed for the sex.

"I have other things to worry about than the Golden Girl," Draco muttered, his thoughts finding new paths.

"What was that, Drakey?" sang Theo.

"Go on, go flirt with Granger; keep her and her boyband at bay, will you."

"Why, what's got your head in a twist?"

Draco smirked but continued his stride through the Great Hall and out the double doors. The three of them made their way up the stone steps to the upper levels.

"Oh, come on enlightened one, has preaching suddenly not become your thing anymore?" Theo barked a laugh. Blaise chuckled from behind.

"I'll tell you later, Nott. For now, it would be great if you could get into the Mudblood's good books and distract her. I need… flexibility and that means I need less hassle from Granger and the Gorillas. Let them focus on you."

"Drake? You're not actually going through with it, are you?" Draco's look said that he would. "What in the right mind would make you do that?" Blaise hissed.

"I have to try, Blaise," he bit back.

"Wha-what's going on?" Theo's head swivelled between his friends.

"Never you mind. I just need time, alright? Back off, both of you. I need to do this – I have no other choice."

Blaise shook his head. "Mate, I'm not sure listening to him is a good idea. He was fucking crazy…"

"Don't you think I know that? Look, the Dark Lo-" Draco coughed, glancing around him, "–snake face may have had his faults, but the man was cleverer than most. I have to know; if there is a chance, I have to know."

They reached a fork in the corridor, each about to head to their first lesson. The hallway was eerily quiet.

"You don't even know what you're looking for…"

"I know enough to get started."

"You're insane."

Draco's eyes flickered between both of his friends. He nodded in response.

"Where will you even start?" Blaise raised his arms, exasperated.

"Wherever I can."


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione's first lesson of that day was Ancient Runes with Professor Babbling. She had left Harry and Ron who, of course, had their first period free. Now that the war had finished, Hermione had wanted to discuss her rune findings with her professor regarding the Deathly Hallows. Having never come across the Hallows before her camping days she hoped to provide some useful insight into the actuality of the symbol.

She took out her textbook (Advanced Rune Translation by Yuri Blishen) and waited until the end of the lesson to discuss her findings with Babbling over the historical significance of the Deathly Hallows symbol. Professor Babbling grew very excited at this new finding as well and thanked Hermione profusely for the insight.

Hermione, of course, hadn't told her that she personally knew what the three Deathly Hallows were – or that she knew where they were. Currently, it didn't matter where the Hallows were but rather that it could be an insightful nugget of information for untranslated texts. Of course, the Hallows seemed to have become more of a cult classic than anything substantial. Hermione could only think that was because it was so unlikely to find these three treasures because they were kept relatively secret enough to turn into a myth.

She just felt that it was right that the Peverell brothers had a more prolonged reign in history than the name's quick extinction. Professor Babbling had even decided to rifle through her notes because she was 'certain' that she had seen the symbol before.

Making her way to her next class (Potions) meant that she bumped into Harry and Ron on the Grand Staircase who were heading to their first lesson of the day.

"She said that our findings might change how wizards and witches have been reading runes all their lives because the Deathly Hallows happens to look exceptionally similar to two symbols; an all-seeing eye and also a campfire. It's remarkable really; how long they must have gone through history, making little sense of sentences with campfires in the middle of a sentence about politics," Hermione said eagerly, looking at either boy strolling along beside her.

"It makes for interesting storytelling…" Ron muttered. "But hold on… if these are ancient ruins, why is politics playing such a large part of it all? I thought the whole point of that class was reading the first signs of written magic… Surely that would've happened much earlier than politics?" Ron said sardonically.

"Obviously didn't pass your History of Magic exam, Ron," said Harry teasingly.

"Well the Peverell's couldn't be that ancient to be included in ancient runes, could they?"

"Well… No, you're right; they came much later. However, they were alive several centuries before us. Some still communicated through runes or wrote magic using them. I don't think the Deathly Hallows made a noticeable impact on our history but if Xenophilius Lovegood and Dumbledore found out about the symbol, they must have gotten it somewhere elsewhere from where we found out about them, which was through them. And it is because the symbol, that is so loosely known or acknowledged, that makes me think that it isn't a modern comeuppance. I'll have to read about its origin and see if it is part of rune text..." Hermione pondered for a moment, mentally ticking off the books that she would look at first.

"Have you gone out to look for the–" Ron paused to check that no one was listening, "–stone?"

Harry shook his head, his messy black hair falling into his eyes as he did so. "I'm not sure I want to use it again… I guess it's worth a shot, but I have no clue where I dropped it – quite frankly I was more concerned about facing Voldemort at that time than where I dropped it."

"S'pose… Thought it might be useful…" Ron mumbled. Hermione was on the verge of telling Ron that it wouldn't be a good idea chasing after a false representation of someone, but she thought better of it. Anyone who lost a loved one in this war had someone ripped from them whose time was cut far too short. She couldn't deny that a sense of closure through the Resurrection Stone could potentially become an addictive and not-so-final way of saying goodbye. But she didn't want Ron or others not having the chance to make it so.

Hermione frowned with new thoughts of retrieving the stone. She mused whether it could potentially be dangerous to have it fall into the wrong hands – of someone who might use the ghostly figures to bring back Voldemort's values. It seemed unlikely if it were just the three of them who knew about it and had it, but the possibility was there all the same.

They made their way down the stone staircase that led to the Dungeons. The air was cold, so each of them wrapped their cloaks around themselves to ward off the chill. They reached a small gathering of Gryffindors who were waiting outside the Potions classroom for the previous class to file out the room before they turned in and made their way to their preferred seats.

Hermione made her way to her usual spot (next to Harry and Ron on the bench over) but was called over by Parvati for her to sit at her desk in the middle row. She greeted the girl and apologised for acting so strangely that morning. Parvati waved the notion away and said that she supposed it must have been a matter of importance. Hermione smiled kindly and nodded.

There was a pleasant buzz of conversation floating around the room, which was a nice change of late. Even Professor Slughorn was taking his time starting the lesson while he spoke conversationally to some of the students on the Slytherin side. Hermione vaguely noted that the room was still separated into either house, not that this was surprising in the least.

She noted that three spaces from Gryffindor were missing; Neville, Seamus and, sadly, Lavender. It was strange not to have either boy in the class, but Seamus felt he had learnt a lot during his last year, and Neville who found (not to anyone's surprise) that his talents lay within Herbology, not Potions. A few were missing from the Slytherin table. In fact, the only male that was sitting on the other side was Goyle, which surprised Hermione as he usually was with Malfoy and his cronies.

Her thoughts drifted to Crabbe for a moment, her eyes crinkling in sadness. Everyone's situation seemed to be more grey than black or white. Evil was just an unfortunate and unavoidable situation for some. Many people search for sin because they believe in it and others were just born into it.

It wasn't as easy as Good and Evil – those that wanted equality and those that didn't permeate in both groups. Naturally, despite the war, inter-house relations seemed to be going poorly. Especially as there was still some hostility towards those who had actively participated as defendants of the Death Eaters during the battle. Pansy Parkinson, who had so graciously stepped forward to hand Harry over to Lord Voldemort, was still exercising her pureblood status and others followed.

The Parkinson family weren't Death Eaters and as such weren't shunned like some of the others, but Hermione hated to see her prance around so happily after having made such bold and disloyal statements. It certainly felt like she felt no need for repentance, or even felt like she had done anything wrong. Hermione rarely crossed paths with her, but Pansy was as nasty as they came without the prejudices.

Professor Slughorn clapped his hands, calling attention to his students. "Good morning, boys and girls; or should I say ladies and gentleman... Most of you, I know, have passed your seventeenth birthday…" He observed, his eyes bouncing from face to face.

The room became eerily quiet as Slughorn hesitated in his speech. Hermione could hear the creak of the professor's hands as they tightened their hold on each other, his lip also struggling in a fierce grip held by his teeth.

"It is my duty," he paused, "and a moment that I may express my personal misery… For many of you, friends, colleagues and family, and for myself students, and life-long companions have been taken unexpectedly and unpleasantly from this earth.

"I do hope that through the coming months that each of us, if you have not yet already, can unite and celebrate the lives of truly extraordinary people. It is tragic that so many lives – lives that were destined for greatness – were ripped apart and stolen. Such prizes these witches and wizards were…" Slughorn stuffed his clammy hand into his waist pocket and procured a purple handkerchief to wipe his brow and nose.

At that moment, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini strode into the Potions classroom. They apologised to the professor, who nodded and asked for the three wizards to take their usual seats at the front.

"Mr. Nott, Mr. Zabini," called Slughorn, "as it is the first day I will not be taking points from Slytherin, however I implore that you arrive on time to save yourselves from the glares of your housemates..." Slughorn regarded them with a stern eye. He edged closer to Malfoy and whispered something into his ear, to which Draco solemnly nodded before rummaging in his pocket for a piece of parchment that he handed over.

Hermione and the others watched silently through the exchange, none the wiser as to what Slughorn had asked of the blond boy. The professor shuffled over to his desk and placed the folded piece of parchment onto the table top then turned back to the class with a smile.

"Today will be a practical day to get your brains working, chugga-chugga," said Slughorn, with a tight yet cheerful smile. They were to make a relatively simple potion since they hadn't been taught properly in over a year and needed to get into the swing of things again.

Unlike the severe strokes of Severus Snape, Slughorn wrote in a curly script on the chalkboard:

 ** _Homework:_**

 _Write ten inches on the effects of aged ingredients and why this would affect a potion's i) consistency ii) taste iii) strength iv) impact._

 _Read chapter 1-3 of N.E.W.T level Advanced Potion Making._

 _Q) Using your current knowledge, produce an ingredient list and recipe for Veritaserum._

 _Q) Write the effects of each ingredient to your Veritaserum recipe were it to be past its expiry._

Hermione estimated that the first piece of homework would at least be twenty inches long. She mentally made a note to perform some finger exercises before starting that particular task. The two final questions were a little trickier, but she was confident that she knew the process.

Still lost in thought, Hermione only became aware of her surroundings when Parvati whispered to her a quick "fuck, Hermione", that several people had been reshuffled to sit at other desks. It was clear that Slughorn had asked the class to mix up the seating arrangement so that the houses would mingle more.

Begrudgingly, several Slytherin and Gryffindor students got up to move places, and so Hermione watched as Parvati sat next to Millicent Bulstrode and found Pansy Parkinson had taken her place. Hermione still regarded Pansy with a sceptical and suspicious eye and so did not make any effort to speak to the witch, which suited them both as Pansy was not going to interact with her either.

Hermione noted that Harry had swapped with Malfoy, so he was sitting with Blaise Zabini instead of Ron. She turned to look at Ron behind her and gave him a sympathetic smile. Malfoy caught her reaction to the new set-up, his stormy and intense eyes making her turn quickly to face the front again.

Now and then, Hermione glanced over to Pansy who although was a few steps behind her in the potion making process was adept in the skill. She seemed impatient with the class, producing a sigh every so often, also avoiding speaking to any of the surrounding Gryffindors.

Hermione stirred her potion to completion and left it off the heat at the top of her desk for inspection. She glanced over to the other side of the room to see that Harry and Blaise were ignoring each other. She turned to Ron and Malfoy. Ron seemed to some steps behind in his potion, but he was being slow and deliberate with his actions and reading the textbook twice. Malfoy had also finished his work and was sitting at his desk, hands interlocked in front of him as he leaned on them with his chin. He was staring into space but with deep concentration.

Hermione straightened her back and got off her stool to walk over to Ron.

"You have a good colour there, Ron." She remarked, looking into his cauldron. His potion was, in fact, a deeper shade of green than it should've been but only due to over-cooking, which she attributed to the fact that he was taking his time over it. Ron grunted in response.

"Would you like me to help?"

"No."

Hermione raised her brows at his dismissive tone.

"I was just wondering… I finished early… thought you might want some company…?" She asked with a quick glance at Malfoy who had been eying her out of the corner of his eye. He quickly looked away but seemed unabashed that Hermione caught him interested in their conversation.

"Yeah, alright… do you think that's the right colour?"

Hermione leaned over and peered into the cauldron. The pale green that it should be was the colour of moss.

"Well, it's on the right section of the colour chart." Ron gave a disappointed grunt. Hermione looked around the workstation, then had an idea. "If you were to add moondew, do you think that would make it paler?"

Ron shot her an irritated glare, possibly feeling self-conscious and patronised. Hermione gave him a small smile to try to make him think. "I guess… not?"

Hermione nodded. "You need asphodel milk." Ron gave her a sheepish grin and added the milky liquid to his potion, effectively turning it paler. "You're improving, Ronald. You did everything correctly but not quickly enough so your potion over-brewed."

Ron stirred his potion but didn't acknowledge her compliment. Hermione supposed it was because Malfoy was next to him, although he seemed bored and uninterested in sneering at them.

The class was told to complete their homework by next lesson and that their seating arrangements would alternate, to incite inter-house relationships. Hermione regarded it as a forced way of getting people to interact with each other; perhaps it would help somewhat to alleviate blood prejudices. She was thankful that she wouldn't have to sit next to Pansy for each class, but it also brought the prospect of sitting next to other Slytherin cronies.

Everyone was packing up their materials and edging their way out the door when Hermione clumsily knocked over her inkwell into her bag.

"Oh, no!" whined Hermione. The ink had splattered over her books, her jumper and had also seeped through the bag's material onto her desk. Performing various cleaning spells, she quickly became one of the last students in the room. Hermione sighed when she saw that neither Harry or Ron had waited for her. "Boys," she cursed. While cleaning up she noticed that Malfoy had strode past her to talk to Slughorn.

"Professor?"

"Ah, Mr Malfoy. What is it?"

"You need to sign my Performance Review, sir."

"Oh, yes! Right you are, Mr Malfoy. It's a terrible shame that we have to do this, but I can't say I can't blame them, right m'boy?" Slughorn laughed awkwardly.

Hermione looked slyly up and over at Malfoy who only grimaced and nodded as he waited for the paper to be signed.

"I'll have to take note of your tardiness…."

"Professor, I was held back by Professor Duffeling – she couldn't find her quill."

From his tone, Hermione imagined that Professor Duffeling might have held Malfoy back to make sure he was late for his next lesson... Of course, she couldn't be sure, but his statement seemed genuine enough.

"Not to worry, not to worry – I often lose my quill, and when it does crop up, it's usually right in front of my eyes. Mind you, that's because I jinxed some of my personal effects to make themselves noticed when I've lost them. Comes quite in handy!" Slughorn finished the write-up and grinned wetly at the boy. "Maybe I ought to show Professor Duffeling how to do it, eh?"

Malfoy smiled sardonically in return but accepted the parchment that was held out to him with a nod.

Hermione managed to clear her mess away and left the Potions lab just in front of Malfoy. The quiet hallway suddenly became a performance for both of their heels to clap their way towards the Entrance Hall and on to lunch.

Hermione couldn't help but feel self-conscious as she strolled paces in front of the infamous man, who made no effort to distance himself from her. She chewed on her lip, feeling obliged to fill the silence.

"So, did you enjoy your summer?" Hermione chirped, looking over her shoulder, catching the man already staring at her. His stony face quickly deepened into narrowed eyes and a tense frown on his sharp features. Realising her mistake, Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip apologetically.

"I didn't mean…" She faltered. "I'm sorry…" She added pathetically. Malfoy seemed to want to ignore her attempt at conversation, and now that Hermione had a chance to chastise herself, she realised it was an odd enough approach anyway. They weren't friends – he was her enemy, her tormentor, he had watched her be tortured – how would she have acted if he started making conversation with her. Probably disturbed and suspicious.

They continued walking towards the staircase to the entrance hall.

"Did you have a good summer–"

"–what?"

Malfoy expelled a hushed chuckle, finding amusement in Hermione's surprised and unguarded expression.

"Your summer?" He repeated. Hermione raised her brows in understanding.

"Oh, um… It was… It was difficult."

There was no point denying it; any other answer would be a blatant and pretentious lie. Malfoy nodded in response. They arrived at the Entrance Hall and were each soon swept by the hungry crowd to their destinations.

* * *

 **Hello everyone! I hope you're enjoying the story so far – let me know your thoughts and opinions because you lovely readers might spark some more ideas (although, I'm currently writing chapter 27..!) I say this because although I've written many chapters, some places I need a little poke to make it something I'm completely happy with. So bare with me if updates aren't super fast because I'm still in editor mode. Also, I'm not finished by a long shot but I know where I want it to go, yippee!**

 **Some chapters will be 1,000 words, others 7,000. It is what it is. This is my first Harry Potter fic and I'm trying to make it both book and movie compliant (I know there are major differences) so if you spot something that wasn't in the books then it was in the films... or I made it up. I'm from the UK so UK spelling has been used; if you notice a mistake please let me know and I will try to edit it :)**

 **Of course, Harry Potter belongs to the magnificent J.K Rowling.**

 **– Tooxi**


	4. Chapter 4

Usually, lunch at Hogwarts was a rather dull affair filled with last-minute cramming of homework and mindless chatter. However, today, mid-way through their meal, there was a commotion by the entrance to the Great Hall.

Harry groaned loudly and dropped his fork with a clatter. A horde of reporters came bustling in and their cameras flashing. The sound was like a thousand fluttering wings echoing around the hall

"It's the Daily Prophet," he scowled as the reporters spotted him and started jogging up to the table where Ginny, Ron, Parvati, Neville, Hermione and Harry sat.

Ginny, not realising exactly how many reporters were hurtling towards her, gave a bored wink and stood up to shoo them off. On seeing the masses, she gave a very uncharacteristic squeal and jumped out of the way.

"Potter, Potter, Potter!" They each tried to get his attention, loud clicks of their flashing cameras reflecting in his round glasses.

"Mr Weasley, Mr Weasley! When will you start your Auror training? You must want revenge!"

"Harry! Harry Potter, Harry Potter, sir" one reporter persisted, "why have you gone back to school? What's it like being back where your peers fought for you?"

"Harry Potter, what is your secret to thwarting You Know Who? How does it feel to eat every day in the room he died in?"

"Are you dating Hermione Granger?"

"Miss Granger, who have you chosen? Are you dating Potter? Weasley?"

"How did you defeat the greatest Dark Wizard of our time, Potter? With a simple Expelliarmus at that!"

"Granger, will you start a family soon? Who is the lucky man? Or woman? Miss Granger, who is the woman you were seen kissing?"

"Weasley – when are you going to chase down the last Death Eaters?"

"Potter, how do you feel about dating Ginevra Weasley after Hermione Granger stated she liked women?"

Ginny's face turned red as she heard her given name. She pulled at the reporter with the green, velvet hat and started arguing with him. Ron leapt up and began restraining his sister, his own face confused and flustered.

"Move out the way," a witch with short black hair growled as her eyes ransacked the table, taking note of what the Wizarding world's heroes ate. Parvati had to duck her head so low to avoid the woman that she threw her arms over her head for protection.

Hermione stepped back from the table and scanned the area. Professor McGonagall was trying her hardest to usher out the large group, her face sterner than when Umbridge had reviewed one of her lessons.

Little Professor Flitwick was pulling on the hems of robes as he tried to edge his way in sideways. Ginny was now getting angrier as photographers snapped her snarling face in a headlock in her brother's arms.

Harry was trying to calm down the reporters, resorting to shouting himself to be heard over the intense roar. Neville was answering one reporter's questions with an odd look on his face as one shoved his quill at him like a makeshift microphone.

Crowds of students began to hover around, eager to be part of the commotion and tell their version of the events.

By the large oak door entrance to the Great Hall stood Rita Skeeter, dressed in faux red fur, a yellow ostrich bag in hand and her signature quill swooping back and forth over a piece of parchment as it wrote down what she was muttering to it.

Hermione marched over to the witch, whose sly smirk grew cat-like with every step Hermione took towards her.

"Oh isn't this delightful, war heroine and rejected lover to Harry Potter has come to speak to me of her troubled and desperate attempts to capture the Boy Who Lived Twice's attention."

"Oh sod off, you foul woman," Hermione groaned as she watched the quick quotes quill write down "her eyes swimming with tears as she accepts her bland, uninspiring fate with a sidekick, and Harry Potter wannabe, Ronald Weasley."

Hermione pinched the quill out of the air and held it hostage. Rita Skeeter jumped out of her lazy saunter, a murderous look in her eyes.

"Get these reporters out of here, this is a breach of privacy, and this is private property! You cannot bring a fleet of gossip hungry leeches into an educational institution housing underage wizards and witches," Hermione seethed.

"Let it go," Skeeter looked worriedly at her quill, which struggled in the iron grip of Hermione's hand.

Hermione looked around again desperate for some sanity.

"If you take these reporters with you I won't report your animagus status to the Ministry of Magic," she threatened with a wave of her hand holding the now crumpled feather.

A few reports broke off from the leading group and started shouting their questions at another table; Slytherin's.

"It's Malfoy, it's Malfoy," one of them screeched. "Why is Hogwarts letting Death Eater's into their halls again?"

"Draco Malfoy, what do you have to say about your mother and father? I hear your mother is sleeping in an oxygen tank in France to preserve her youth! How much of this is true?"

"Show us your mark then, boy! Why're they letting filth like you sleep where your people murdered. You're a murderer, Malfoy, a murderer!"

"I didn't murder anyone," came Malfoy's high tone as he rose and bore his teeth at the reporter who snapped a picture of him.

It was at this point that a loud booming shout came from a great, bearded half-giant standing behind the group of Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly and a multitude of other gossip column reporters.

"Would you all jus' ruddy well get out of 'ere! Yer 'ave no business in Hogwarts. Now listen to the headmaster or else I will 'ave to escort you – or else throw yer nosey bums – out of the door." Hagrid clapped his hands several times, edging the crowd of reporters out of the hall.

"Rubeus Hagrid, what was it like holding Harry Potter when he was dead?"

"How did Potter survive You Know Who again?"

"Mr Hagrid, what is your relationship to the nation's three heroes?"

And so on it went as the flashes died down and the constant stream of questions moved further away from the Great Hall. Hermione left Rita Skeeter to follow the crowd and went back to the table where her lunch lay limp, cold and half finished. Ron released his sister and turned back around to face his two best friends, an uncomfortable look on his face. He exhaled loudly.

"Bit of a change, isn't it?"

Harry gave a one-shouldered shrug as he looked around furtively. Apparently, it wasn't easy adjusting to fame, even when the fame was just.

"There need to be stricter regulations set in place for such events. Perhaps it would be good to address the public and press so that we don't jeopardise other's schooling." Hermione huffed, her anger only rising when she saw the mess the press had left behind.

Parvati was picking food out her long black hair as she nodded in agreement.

"I'm so sorry everyone, they kept asking me questions, I can't remember what I said," flustered Neville.

"It's alright, Nev. Don't worry about it," Harry dismissed tiredly. "They've been pestering me all summer, so I suppose they need some quotable material."

"You'd think they would find some more interesting and challenging questions to ask than that drivel they made up."

"What, you mean you haven't snogged a girl?" Ron asked disappointedly.

Hermione raised a brow at him and leaned in. "Oh, I have." Ron perked up, a sly grin making its way on his face. "I loved it," Hermione bit her lip with a wicked smirk. "Ginny loved it too."

Ron's happiness plummeted in a heartbeat, worry and consternation marring his face. "What d'you mean? You kissed my sister?"

Hermione pursed her lips and winked at Ginny who was happily watching her brother's reddening face.

"I'm kidding, Ronald. Merlin, you're far too easy to wind up."

Ron's ears had become red at this point. He gave Hermione a brief scowl before muttering a quick "should've guessed" under his breath. Harry, Ginny and Hermione all burst out into laughter and rubbed their friend's back.

"It's quite terrible, isn't it?" Ginny asked with a heavy sigh, and a glare pointed at the exit of the room.

"What is?" replied Harry.

"Well, it's all hunky dory for you being the Chosen One but didn't you hear them?" Both Harry and Ron looked lost at Ginny's words. She rolled her eyes. "You two are remarkably daft. They all wanted to know who Hermione was dating! Nothing about how she served multiple Death Eaters on a platter, saved countless lives – including yours, might I add – played a major role in the destruction of You Know Who and they're asking which one of you two plonkers she's hooked up with!"

Ron smirked, ready to give a smart reply back to his sister but Hermione was quick to spot his hand.

"You're incorrigible, Ron Weasley." Hermione pursed her lips.

"It is true though… They didn't ask you anything else…" Ron looked over at his girlfriend with sad eyes.

"I find it quite strange seeing as wizards don't usually dismiss witches… Several accomplished witches are recognised," Harry pointed out.

"That's because they haven't seen the best of me yet. I am not just the muggle-born best friend to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley." Hermione said determinedly. Her friends smiled at her knowingly, recognising that her confident and cheeky smile meant she had plans for herself.

With that, Hermione finished off her steak and kidney pie, swigged down her water, said goodbye to her friends and headed to the library for her free period.

* * *

It was only their first day back and already there was a mountain of homework waiting for them. Hermione had started on her Ancient Runes homework while she was in the Library so that she could work with the boys on their Charms essay that evening.

It was strange to be sitting in the Common Room again, as it was quieter than usual. The fire every now and then gave a particularly loud crackle, making Hermione's eyes flinch into blinking. It was starting to irritate her, so she scratched out the last sentence in a paragraph, waited for the ink to dry and rolled up the parchment. She stared at the flames, this time content in facing what was making her feel tense.

It was just reaching ten o'clock when students began pairing off into their dormitory to go to bed. It came to a point where it was only Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Ginny and Parvati who sat in the room. They all shifted to sit in a circular formation by the fireplace.

It was quiet at first as each student mulled over a sentence they were writing. Only until Ginny had made a frustrated sigh, scrunched up her parchment and tossed it neatly into the fire did the group begin to relax and forget about their homework.

"I can't think," Ginny said, staring blankly off into the flames.

"I know what you mean," Seamus added, "What's the point." He asked rhetorically.

They each stilled lost in their own thoughts.

"I don't know how it works but… Do you guys think…d'you think there are ghosts?"

They knew that Neville wasn't asking about whether ghosts existed or not.

"Well, you would think so… Essentially, ghosts exist because they have unfinished business from their living life." Hermione provided the group. "They usually appear if the person who died felt guilty, regrets something, has a strong attachment to a place or… Fears death."

"I haven't seen any, but that wouldn't make sense, would it?" Parvati asked.

"I suppose it's a matter of choice…" Hermione whispered, too lost in her thoughts to properly voice her reply.

"Then, couldn't You Know Who come back as a ghost?" Dean said, fear entering his voice.

"He couldn't come back as a ghost," Harry supplied in monotone. The group turned to look at him. "He's stuck in limbo; I saw him. He can't move on or come back… whatever's left of his soul is just perishing."

"Limbo? So he isn't dead then?" Seamus inquired aggressively.

"He is, I'm certain of it," Harry said. He looked into each of their scared eyes, hoping that he was right. "His soul just cannot ever find peace."

Hermione looked concernedly at Harry, briefly catching Ron's eye. Ginny sighed and scratched her skin, before getting up and announcing she was going to have a shower and then head to bed. Hermione guessed Ginny was thinking of when Voldemort had taken possession of her mind. Harry watched her leave, swallowing hard.

"Y'going to start DA again this year, Harry?" Seamus asked. Harry rubbed the back of his neck and gave a non-committal hum.

"I think it would be a good idea, Harry. There are still Death Eaters out there…" Hermione said, her hand resting on her friend's shoulder.

"If enough people want to but I can't honestly see anyone joining anymore. The War is over… they want to leave it to the professionals."

"Screw the Aurors!" Seamus threw out. "Sorry Ron, Harry, but they haven't done anything in this war."

Hermione had half a mind to point out that many had been possessed, threatened and were dealing with terror threats in other parts of the UK but she had to admit, she agreed with Seamus. It wasn't fair that so many underage and underqualified witches and wizards had to fend off a sadistic madman and his followers mostly by themselves.

"We wouldn't have survived if it weren't for the DA," Dean said, his eyes bulging. "I mean look at Neville now!" He pointed over at Neville who blushed. "No offence, Nev, but the DA changed you for the better."

"It did."

"Well, look guys… I have to think about it. I might…" Harry sighed, "I might do a lesson now and then but it'll be less often."

"That's fine – completely fine." Seamus's eyes glowed.

"Right," Harry nodded. After that, Dean, Seamus and Neville all said they were off to bed and so gathered their homework and went up to the boy's dormitory.

Harry raised his legs up and twirled his wand between his hands. Hermione shuffled off the armchair and sat beside Harry on the floor, her hand placed on his arm. He turned to her but she was concentrating on something, Ron too was staring but deeply at his own clutched hands.

"I'm going to bed. I'll see you guys tomorrow." Harry brushed Hermione's hand off of his arm. Ron and Hermione looked towards him with sad expressions in their eyes. Harry stopped at the foot of the steps and turned towards them.

"I'm not going to shut myself out; I just need time to think… I didn't want any of this to happen," he looked solemnly at his friends.

"Of course not, mate. We have to live with it, that's all."

"Yeah…"

"Goodnight, Harry," Hermione called as he turned to walk up the stone staircase.

* * *

The next day followed in a somewhat similar fashion; lots of classes, lots of homework. There was a significant step up in study from their Sixth year. They had, of course, spent the year before their Seventh in a tent, with little food and a bounty on their heads, and so it was proving to be quite challenging to keep up.

Hermione spent a vast majority of her free time in the Library that day, Harry and Ron had joined her after dinner to get three pieces of homework done by Friday. They hadn't even had all their classes yet! It was unsurprising to see other Seventh year students huddled together by a desk, scratching their heads and writing as if the harder they pressed, the easier the homework became. Many had dropped off too tired by the day's efforts.

Hermione frowned a lot on her way back to the Common Room later that evening, having not been able to locate a tome she needed to complete her essay. Some other student must have taken it out.

Earlier that day, after Transfiguration, Harry, Ron and Hermione had been called back by McGonagall. She had wanted to know if the three of them would like to prepare a speech for the unveiling of the memorial that weekend. Harry looked particularly hesitant, not happy with the idea of talking especially as Voldemort's actions revolved a lot around Harry, where deaths occurred when they mightn't have. Hermione and Ron were both willing to speak at the event, with Harry giving an indeterminate nod.

Hermione thought carefully about how she would approach her speech, knowing she wanted to address issues that she was reverent about getting across. By the time she made her way through the portrait hole and into the Common Room, she knew what half of her speech would include. Harry and Ron had decided to play Wizard's Chess in the corner, which Hermione wasn't too interested in watching. She went over and sat next to Ginny by the fire.

"Hey, Gin."

"Hey... Been in the Library?"

"By Merlin and Dumbledore is this year more demanding. Of course, I've been in the Library! I need to keep up."

"Keep up with whom, exactly?"

"With myself! I lost a whole year of studying and preparation, who knows what I might've forgotten!"

"You're crazy, 'Mione. Did you know that?"

"I've been told…" Hermione chuckled after she saw her friend's grin. "How are you?"

"Mm," her friend hummed, "uneventful, busy… McGonagall went straight to it today, talking about careers. I have half a mind to tell her I don't want to work in Transfiguration but I don't want to turn into a chicken or a matchbox!"

"What do you want to do?"

Ginny shrugged. "Charlie has his dragons, Bill works with Gringotts, Percy works at the Ministry kissing ass – which I cannot see myself doing – George has his business… Ron has a position held for him as an Auror. I don't know, Hermione. I get reasonably good grades I just don't know where I want to be."

"Neither do I, Gin," Hermione admitted. "You're brilliant at Quidditch, why not try out for a team?"

"That's not how it works! You have to get scouted for it." Ginny said with a twisted pout.

"So you wouldn't mind in playing Quidditch professionally?"

"Actually, I wouldn't mind it at all, but we'll see. The scouts come to almost every Hogwarts game but nothing yet."

"I wouldn't be surprised if this year was your year! Finally, since we started Hogwarts we can have a relatively normal year, and that means you can do your damn best to get scouted. Alright?"

Ginny grinned, new determination on her face. The girls continued to chatter about this, that and the other, like they usually did. Parvati came over to join them for a bit before the three of them made their way to bed.

The next day meant an early start for Ron and Harry who had Herbology, a subject needed to become an Auror and one that Hermione felt she could apply her talents elsewhere. That elsewhere was in Arithmancy.

Arithmancy, an incredibly complex subject, was only getting more intricate with each book Hermione read. The last period of the previous day was Arithmancy and Professor Vector thought it was her most brilliant idea to set a challenging piece of homework to be completed for first period the next day.

Hermione couldn't say she loved the subject, but she could appreciate its value. After all, when plotting number charts became second nature then it also became easier to look past the knotty and confusing parts and apply it to the everyday.

She had to admit to herself that she was quite rusty at it, but nothing that couldn't be corrected with a few hours of study. The classroom was almost full by the time Hermione had arrived. As this class was an elective it was mixed with the other houses, as was her Ancient Runes class. There were plenty of Ravenclaws who had taken up most of the front portion of the room. After swiftly searching the room for the spare seats, Hermione noted that Draco Malfoy was sitting alone reading a thick book. She hesitated before sitting at a table in the row behind, near a couple of Hufflepuffs, and rummaged in her bag to retrieve her parchment, quill, ink pot and textbooks.

Perhaps it was his movement that caught her eye, or the sigh that she heard or the streak of sunlight that reflected off of his blond hair that made Hermione unable to stop staring at Draco Malfoy.

Her recent interactions with him had confused her. One minute he was cold, hard, scathing, kicking her under the table and then he was willing to speak to her about their summer? Not a long conversation she had to admit, but it was different to their usual cruel glares.

' _He could have a multiple personality disorder_ ,' she thought with pursed lips. ' _With such a traumatic experience of having one's parents' souls ripped from their bodies, it could potentially affect a person in such a way that it would cause a rift in healthy brain functionality… Of course, you don't know that because Malfoy has only done it the one time, a one-eighty from what he used to be… a coward… an arrogant coward… he hadn't been arrogant in Potions… he was, dare I think it, accepting_?

 _'Perhaps he just grew up? No, you cannot go through what he went through and just "grow up". Surely, to get to grips with it would take the average person a lot longer? Unless he is acting… why wouldn't you fake it if you're Draco Malfoy, most disliked teenage wizard inside a school where several of his peers died. He may not have necessarily aided Death Eaters in killing others, but he did enable them to do so._

 _'Then wouldn't he feel guilty beyond belief? I can't see him emulate heartless people like Voldemort. He must feel something..._

 _'I wonder what he's is reading… Oh… Hogwarts: A History. I wonder … which section is he … Oh, no! How could-how disgraceful-doesn't he realise that's–ooh he is so infuriating; folding the corners of books is utterly disgraceful! Has he never heard of a bookmark? Oh, Merlin! There is no reason to fold and roll!'_

Draco put down the book and twisted in his chair to look straight at Hermione with a raised brow and a bemused expression. Hermione removed her incredulous look from her face and instead narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. It wasn't until Professor Vector had appeared by her desk standing right in front of her that she realised something was amiss.

"Miss Granger," the professor asked. Hermione pulled herself out of her reverie and looked up at Professor Vector.

"Yes, professor?"

"Please lift your elbow off of your homework."

Hermione frowned in confusion and looked down to see that her homework was trying to wriggle itself free from where her elbow had it pinned against the desk. She raised her arm to release the eager piece of parchment, which zoomed off further into the classroom to sit neatly atop a stack of papers from the other students. She looked bashfully up at her professor and muttered an apology.

Merlin, she needed to focus. It was her final year and distractions as small as bookmarks were possibly the oddest thing she had given attention to already. Malfoy probably thought that she was an idiot and a frigid so-and-so. Why did that matter?

' _It didn't_ ,' she thought firmly. " _It doesn'_ t," she had to correct herself sternly.

Hermione shook her head and began to take notes from the lecture.

* * *

He could feel her eyes on him as he read. Luckily he was reading a chapter about the Great Hall and nothing more suspicious like Salazar Slytherin and his Chamber of Secrets or the one on hidden rooms. That last section was short and useless; of course, any of the hidden places of Hogwarts would not be hidden anymore if people knew where they were, so Bagshot's notes said very little in very many words.

Granger had been starting to irritate him – more so than she usually did – and he began to wish that Theo would hurry the fuck up in trying to distract her because it seemed, all on her own, she had decided to pay a little more attention to him. It was the third time in three days that Granger ended up being near him and it was becoming unnerving.

He had to admit he hadn't sneered at her recently. Perhaps that was it. Or maybe his face was less intimidating – not what a Malfoy should be aspiring to be; less imposing. He had felt everything but confidence over the past year and a half. He had been scared, anxious, nauseous, cautious and regretful. Without the threat of Voldemort over his head, he could finally think about something other than death, but that meant thinking about his parents.

It was the first time in months that he had felt irritation, close to who he used to be, but mostly he just felt incredibly tired. Too tired to be who he was, who he became. It was over now, so why did Granger irritate him? Her blood was still dirty to him, but that wasn't it… he was used to feeling superior to her, not annoyed. He paused.

No matter what happened to her, she stayed pure.

He began to play with the corner of the page he had folded down and soon after heard a tutting noise coming from the witch he had in his mind. Draco paused his ministrations, waited thirty or so seconds before he started rolling the paper between his thumb and forefinger. Another tut. He turned his head to the side slightly, not even sure it was directed at him. He took a glance at Granger out the corner of his eye and saw her glaring daggers at his hand.

He caught her gaze, making her cheeks glow slightly, but then she looked pointedly at his hand and shook her head. Humouring her, he slowly took his hand away from Hogwarts: A History and saw her expel a silent sigh of relief. Then Professor Vector came over to scold her, which was a sweet victory for Draco. He rolled his eyes but didn't touch the book until the end of the class.


	5. Chapter 5

After his Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with the new teacher, Professor Deryk Kenny, Draco was thankful that not only was it lunch time but that his next period was a free one. It meant he could spend extra time in the Library searching for what he needed.

His cheerful buddy, Voldemort, had left him with a neat, little tit-bit a month before the Battle of Hogwarts had ensued. Draco had wondered why the Dark Lord hadn't disclosed the information to his right-hand man, Snape, or perhaps he had but garnered strength in more followers knowing. Whatever the reason, Draco was in a situation of trust, which he wholeheartedly intended to break.

That was until his parents had received the Kiss.

So his long search in the Library began with a … 'Fuck. Where do I start,' he thought irately. Thousands upon thousands of books lay in the Library, not to mention the Restricted Section at the back, which he was confident he would never in his happiest daydreams be able to enter by asking permission. He sighed before wandering to the nearest shelf and browsing the many tomes there.

Draco cursed when the final bell rang two hours later having accomplished nothing. Not even any pieces of homework, which he knew he would have to spend hours on after dinner – what luck. His day became minutely better when he found out he wouldn't have to sit next to Weasley in Potions but rather Dean Thomas, who wasn't too bad.

* * *

It was a slow week, but soon Saturday came along, the day of the memorial for the fallen.

Luckily, it was a beautiful sunny morning for Potter. Otherwise, his little speech would have been a particularly morbid one. The entire school was assembled on the front lawns of Hogwarts, overlooking the Great Lake.

Draco thought it looked like a very glittery occasion, blindingly white and pure with the sun's reflection on the water and the white blossoms that floated down from Merlin knew where, and from the ghosts that glided around, barely visible. There was also a glare coming from Dumbledore's, restored and upgraded, white marble tomb. Draco averted his eyes, wincing slightly, as he remembered his old headmaster.

McGonagall gave a short, sweet speech before introducing Potter to the stage, who looked like he was about to vomit, his face pearly in colour. Another blinding feature of the memorial.

Draco was standing with Blaise, Theo, Greg, Pansy, Daphne and her little sister Astoria under the shade of a nearby tree. There was a ripple of claps from each house before Potter began his speech.

"This is something that I never thought in my life that I ever would have to do, nor did I ever think that if a time came for a speech like this one, that I would want to be the one to give it." Harry scanned the crowd and looked at each individual that sat before him. He took a ragged breath before continuing.

"I want to make what I say here expressed as clearly as I possibly can. I in no way deem myself worthy of speaking greatly of those that were lost to us because our friends and families are worthier of far greater words."

And so his speech went on. Two minutes in, people were nodding their heads, five minutes in people were getting tissues out, and once the address ended after ten minutes, there was a loud cheer, and everyone had put their wands to the sky and lit the tips.

Draco was saddened by what had happened but he, like many of his close friends felt isolated from his speech. He couldn't help but curl his lip when everyone cheered, although he clapped along.

Up next was, of course, Mudblood Granger.

"I am so very proud of everyone that has helped out during this time of need, and I am grateful that there is such a supportive community that we have at Hogwarts. Like Harry said before me, I am immensely proud of what we have achieved during this difficult time. With every being that perished in this war –something that the other side was sure would break us – we saw hope. Hope and love are what brought us together and what will allow us to remember our loved ones as the brilliant people that they were and forever shall be.

"As Head Girl, I would also like to reiterate that Madam Pomfrey is holding a well-being programme, and everyone is welcome to come along. There will be notices in your Common Rooms about this."

Granger stopped and took a breath as she shuffled her papers; he wondered why she was nervous.

"What I intend to bring forth to you now, however, is a community that has been left unnoticed, discounted and neglected."

Draco perked up, crossing his arms. 'Is she about to…?'

"They helped us during the war not because we asked them to but because a common enemy threatened their lives."

He watched with a stern eye as Granger looked through the crowd, her eyes drifting to where a majority of Slytherins stood. She caught his eye for the briefest of moments, and Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. His disbelief must have been showing on his face because Granger darted her eyes back towards him.

"Magical Creatures such as elves, goblins, werewolves and many others were involved in this war. The entire workforce of Gringotts bank was viciously slaughtered mere hours before by You Know Who's invasion of Hogwarts."

Draco sank and groaned. ' _Whatever was I thinking … bloody beasts are getting more respect._ '

Theo nudged him and rolled his eyes. "She's hot, but sometimes she spews complete bollocks. Who cares about some ruddy Goblins? Really knocks the hard-on, you know," he whispered.

"Fucking ridiculous. She's only saying that because she looks like a beast herself," he sneered. Theo and Pansy both chuckled at his remark.

Astoria piped up, "She has a point though. We've forgotten that we aren't the only ones living in this community."

Theo and Draco brushed her off and continued listening to the Gryffindor's speech.

"These magical creatures have lived amongst us without any income, support, public acceptance, fair treatment and rights, their own homes, education... Segregation has always existed, in both wizarding and Muggle societies. It is imperative that we remember that we are a community.

"Voldemort, a wizard, with the same rights as you or I to defend ourselves, to own a home, to marry, to procreate, to influence others, to wield magic in his very bones – how could he have higher rights than other beings?

"We are here to remember our fallen brethren who hoped for a better future than the one we live. This is why I am immensely happy to unveil with Headmistress McGonagall, our efforts in highlighting that we are a community that looks out for each other; for a future for all."

Draco watched as Granger twirled around and raised her wand to lift a concealment charm off of a bronze statue that stood by the lake. He inclined his head to see it better.

There were six figures; a centaur pointing to the sky, a witch looking up in awe, a house elf in a one-armed embrace with a wizard, and a goblin and a muggle reading a tome together. Immediately, it reminded Draco of the fountain that had once decorated the Ministry of Magic's atrium long ago; only this one was wishful art.

There were some awes from the crowd as they inclined their heads to get a better look, muttering and with light applause although not everyone looked pleased with Granger's efforts of equality, particularly amongst the oldest and purest families.

"She's stuck her nose in it, hasn't she?" scoffed Pansy.

"Righteous witch," muttered Draco.

The Head Boy spoke and several teachers too with the memorial ending with a list of the fallen read out. Their names would then appear on the statue as an engraving. With it being a beautiful day several students stayed out to sit on the grass, skip stones and take a look at the new sculpture.

Draco lay on his back with his arm gracefully covering his eyes, soaking in the last summer sun. He peered over at Astoria who had begun making a chain of daisies. He was mildly impressed when she used her wand to fashion it into a long piece of rope.

"What are you doing Tori?" asked her sister, Daphne.

"I'm going to make a swing. Hand me your bag will you?" Daphne did so, and Pansy came up to see what she was doing too.

"–invaded my house last week. They were everywhere! I'm pretty sure it was that nasty bitch of a neighbour we have, she's always getting involved in other people's business. I mean, it's not like you just randomly get a pixie invasion in a London townhouse. We had to get the MagiPests in to deal with it; an awful bunch of wizards; they smell like rotten eggs and left dirt all over the house. Then we had to get the bloody Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in because someone had tipped them off that we were 'suspiciously hoarding pixies!'" Blaise ranted to Theo and Greg.

"I was all set for the ministry summer internship and got a rejection letter on the basis that I have 'differing values and body art'," Theo chuckled. "Won't matter, I know half of the DMLE anyway, I'll get them over for dinner and schmooze a little… but 'body art'?" he exclaimed.

"They do realise we can't get rid of the fucking thing, right?" Greg said bitterly.

"Drake, did you manage to get them off your back?"

Draco turned slightly to look at Blaise. "No."

"I think they're doing it to all the Slytherins; I haven't heard any of the other families having ministry investigations. I don't even have the mark," said Blaise.

"Oi, Pans! Come 'ere," called Theo.

"What?" she answered sardonically.

"Have you been getting raids as well?" She nodded. "See, they're a bunch of uptight wankers, as if I'd follow my dad into Azkaban, the twat. Mum's in St Mungo's so all I've got is my lousy grandfather, who hasn't helped by spitting cusses at the Aurors whenever they're around. He keeps saying 'you'll never find them, you Mudblood loving perverts, suck on my wrinkly betty swollox'." The group belted out in laughter at Theo's impression.

"I would've loved to have gone up there to make a speech. They ought to know what we've had to deal with," said Blaise.

"Forget it, mate," muttered Draco, "they'll put you in Az for talking."

There was silence before Greg diverted the conversation to the following weekend's Quidditch trials.

Draco turned his head to look the other direction, down towards the lake. He spotted Potter's group by the water laying in the grass too. Potter had his head rested in his girl's lap, and Luna Lovegood was showing the Weasel and Longbottom something in a newspaper that they unquestionably had no interest in reading. One of the Patil twins was there too, tying Granger's unruly hair back into a braid. Granger had a book in her hand but didn't seem to have opened it yet as she was rambling on, making the group howl in laughter. If he strained his ears, he could just make out her laugh.

"Yes!" came Astoria's voice.

Draco sighed before turning back to see what the commotion was. The girls had managed to create a swing and attached it to a branch of the tree. Everyone turned to look at Astoria with her long, wavy, black hair flicking nicely back and forth as she sat on the swing's seat. She smiled, pleased with her work as she shuffled back onto her tiptoes to get up high for her first swing. From where Draco lay he got a nice peek up Astoria's skirt whenever she swung forward.

* * *

 **Shorter chapter this time... I won't be able to post till** **Monday! – Tooxi**


	6. Chapter 6

**Monday turned into Tuesday (*Cough* I'm a celeb and The Walking Dead were on... shh...) and now it's Wednesday! – Tooxi**

* * *

"Ron, I know you like being an ignoramus but for the sake of the rest of us could you try and not be such a moron?" Ginny drawled as she looked up from her History of Magic essay.

Ron had been munching on a cauldron cake and had crumbs all down his school jumper and after finishing had then proceeded to let out a loud burp. He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand before rocking his chair back onto the floor.

"I do it just to annoy you, Gin," he grinned at her. Ginny gave a tsk in disgust then sent him a quick lip-locking hex to shut him up. Harry and Hermione came up behind the two siblings laughing at Ron's muffled exclamations.

"I think I like him better this way," Harry said, clapping Ron on the back.

"I agree," Hermione teased before giving Ron a peck on the lips making his cheeks burn red. "I've actually finished all my work, so I thought I would help you out," she gave Ron's hair a little tug.

"Uhv fenesh id, Uhminee," Ron struggled.

"It looks like you might need to practice your non-verbal spell casting, Ron. I'm not sure I'm quite awake enough to reverse the spell," she faked a yawn.

"Bur Uhminee!"

"I need to catch up on my reading, it has been so long since we've been here," Hermione said, breathing in the musty scent of the Library.

"You must've read the entire collection. Surely you don't need to read anymore?" Ginny mocked.

"I've read over a thousand books in this library, that's not nearly enough!"

Harry, Ginny and Ron looked unconvinced. There was heavy thump in an aisle adjacent to the group. Ginny leaned back to peer into the corridor to see Draco Malfoy picking up a book that he had dropped. He looked over at her and sneered.

"Just Malfoy, being a prat," she called, making sure that he would hear it.

"We've got Quidditch trials next weekend. You're going to try-out, right?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, of course! I'm not going to let you take the victory all by yourself," Ginny poked his stomach. Harry caught her hand and held it gently.

"Ungh! I eel. Eel ahv ah low o' eopol ohmin or ew, 'Arry."

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that, Ron. Repeat it?" teased Harry.

"Huh, odd. I didn't think that would be so easy to understand, but I guess you've always had this charm, Ron." Ron glared at his sister. "I think what he was trying to say was that he will be trying out and that there will be a lot of people there just to see you, Harry," Ginny said, alleviating the group's confusion.

"As long as some of them are good then there is no worry. We need a spot-on team this year. Otherwise, Wood'll have my head if we don't…"

"It seems trivial to have everything go back to normal, doesn't it," Hermione stated plainly. All three looked at her in surprise. "Well, it's just… I don't know… I can't quite get rid of that feeling that something is going to happen, can you?"

"If there's another Voldemort prancing around I will personally wring his neck and make sure to dig his grave myself," voiced Ginny, "I'm not having it anymore!"

"I don't even want to imagine it. Hermione, you're probably just worried about the final exams. Every year you do this, but I'll trust you if you think it's serious."

Hermione gave a slow nod while biting her lip. She didn't want to stress Harry out any further. "Yes, I suppose it would be that. Ron, remember we are on patrol tonight."

"Ungh," he replied gloomily.

* * *

Come Monday evening Hermione was spending most of her free time after class in the library again. She was worried that if she didn't catch up on all the work she had missed last year, then her final grades would end up no better than Goyle's!

Harry and Ron had left a few hours before, having given up on their Transfiguration essays, opting to work on them at the last minute like they always did. She knew they would ask for her help on Wednesday night right before bedtime. She sighed.

She was afraid to admit it, more so to others than herself, that the library did not bring her much solace when she was alone. There was a specific time after all the students would leave and when Madam Pince would give her goodnight wishes that Hermione felt quite lonely. The room turned cold, and the darkness no longer warmed but haunted. It was the silence and the eerie creaking of her chair and the complete and utter terrifying idea that she was alone – that no blanket could ever warm her bones again.

It was strange because even though the Library was unbearably empty, the time she spent there being sad gave her a sense that she mattered. Her problems weren't insignificant anymore because she felt them a lot more when she was alone.

Hermione had kept pushing this feeling away because it seemed so selfish that she would consider her issues even to be worthy of a mention because sometimes they seemed trivial. Her friends, her extended families, her professors, all had lost someone dear to them in the war.

She'd seen countless people die in front of her, tortured and beaten until they bled, and it was only because of Harry, Ron and all the others she loved that she needed to be strong. Yet, now that it was all over…

It had made sense to her at the time, although she regretted it immensely, but Hermione had lied to both Harry and Ron about her parents. She had not obliviated their minds at the beginning of the previous year but actually after they had finished their fourth year at Hogwarts. It became clear back then that her position as a Muggleborn in the wizarding world was threatened and her association with Harry Potter would put her in a compromising position from that moment onwards.

It never crossed her mind that her parents might leave Australia after she left them there. When she went back in the summer, a new couple had moved into the bungalow her parent's used to live. There wasn't a forwarding address she could use to try and find them, which made her search much trickier. Even the Ministry of Magic was having trouble finding them.

Since sending her parents away, she had mostly stayed at the Burrow or in Grimmauld Place, so she never felt alone during these times. Despite not giving up, putting their retrieval on hold made her feel like she wasn't a good enough daughter for her lost parents.

It wasn't just her parents that kept her up at night. It had to be, that even after her death, Bellatrix's cruel torture still affected her, not only mentally but physically as well. The word etched into her skin, 'Mudblood', burned her every day; hurting and itching. Despite having been a few months since the incident in Malfoy Manor, the scar was open and raw as if her skin would not repair the damage that the witch had done to her.

No one knew how to fix it, and because they didn't have to see it or feel it, it was sort of forgotten. St Mungo's tried salves, potions and lotions but it seemed to aggravate the flesh more so they said it would be better left be.

But she felt it now, an aching that sometimes made her wincing in pain. Whenever she scratched at it, it would bleed, so Hermione tried to refrain from rubbing it.

She just couldn't bring that stress to anyone and hated to admit it but the longer she waited, the more it ate away at her. It gave her nightmares, so Hermione cast a Silencing charm around her four-poster every night to not wake the others. She had snuck up to the boys' dormitory a couple of times and had edged her way into the crook of Ron's arm, which he would always sleepily give up and then squeeze her with the comforting squish of his soft body. None of the boys minded that Hermione was there in the morning; they had just accepted it, which might have been down to either Harry or Ron.

Hermione looked at the clock on the wall and noticed that it was one o'clock in the morning! She wrestled with her papers before realising she was a witch and could magic them neatly into her bag. With another wave of her wand, the books went flying back to their respective places on the shelves, some of them even fighting with other books to slide into a spot. She chuckled as one book lost the fight and fell on the floor, splayed open like something from a cartoon, before flying to squeeze itself next to its rival.

Having left the Library and its heavenly scent of parchment, Hermione made her way down various halls and took shortcuts that the trio had always used. She exited through a portrait of dogs in a hunt for a fox that was out of reach of their gnawing teeth. Either the fox was too cunning for them, or the painter loved the chase.

As Hermione headed for the Grand Staircase to reach the Gryffindor common room, she heard a small commotion coming from a classroom nearby. She sneaked up to the door to listen.

"–cannot be serious?" a man said with surprise. Hermione couldn't quite recognise the voice. "What's going to happen – no, you know what? You're going to get killed, that's what's going to happen."

There was a dark chuckle.

"Look all I need to do is figure out how to do it, then it will be fine. It'll be fine, Theo. See it this way; it was a nice parting gift, something for our troubles." Hermione knew it was Malfoy now talking; she could practically hear his grin.

"How do you even know where it is? It seems impossible if you don't even know where to look!"

"I know it's here; he told me that much. He wasn't exactly willing to share any more details though," Malfoy replied sourly. It was quiet for a moment.

"So that's why you need the help? You don't know where or what it is that you're looking for, do you?"

"Not yet, no, but if it comes to it, then I might have to. I don't need it but if I do there will be an added benefit," Malfoy said arrogantly.

"Ha! Yeah, right. You wouldn't go there in a million years, but I'd like to see you try – quite the challenge for you. I wouldn't mind a little piece for myself," Theo said mischievously.

"I can't say for sure at the moment but the situation changes if I do need that help, Theo, so try and hold off your advances for a bit."

"I doubt I would be creating a problem, probably alleviating it if anything," he snickered.

"You'll fuck it up."

"No, I won't."

"You sure as hell will. Just don't fuck it up on my watch."

"Shall we duel for it?"

"Well if I kill you now, Nott, the trouble would be more effort than it is worth. Plus, you're not a threat to me."

"We'll see," Nott chuckled before shouting out in pain. "Hey! Did I deserve that hex?"

"Whether you did or not, I'd rather have sent a Crucio your way," Malfoy replied with a chuckle.

"Alright, alright! I'll try when you're not around!" Theo seemed to have dodged another hex because it sounded as if a window had broken. "Fine, a while then!" he exclaimed.

Hermione had heard enough. Breaking school property and making threats was unacceptable. She marched into the room with her wand out and pointed it at the two men standing in front of her.

"Not only is it past curfew, but duelling in a classroom is prohibited," Hermione said sternly looking at the two, who seemed to find her sudden appearance quite amusing. They were a little imposing with their height and their calm demeanours.

"Well looky here, Draco. Just what we wanted," grinned Theo.

"I'll think you'll find, Granger, no harm was done; nothing broke." Hermione looked around the classroom, seeing that nothing had indeed broken. He must have used the Reparo charm.

"You should head back to your common room before I report you to the Headmistress," she said primly.

"Get out of here, Granger," replied Draco with a roll of his eyes. He slipped his hands into his trouser pockets.

"Who do you thin-"

He must have had his hand on his wand in his pocket as Hermione suddenly felt a force push her backwards, making her stumble down onto her bottom. She yelped out in shock, trying to rub away the pain she now felt.

Malfoy smirked at her, licked his lip and sauntered over just short of the wand she already had pointed back at his chest. Malfoy pulled over a chair and placed it in front of her and sat down. He leaned forward and leant both of his elbows on either knee and with one smooth movement of his finger, he pushed and guided the tip of Hermione's wand away from his body.

"We're all adults here; there's no need to run off to McGonagall," he stared intensely into her eyes. She lifted her chin and made a threatening gesture with her wand. "Just slap our wrists, Granger; no harm done."

"I don't trust you, Malfoy," she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I know," he replied gravely.

She lowered her wand slowly and watched as Malfoy's eye twitched slightly in surprise.

"Just go back to your common room," she sighed before rising off the floor and brushing the dust off of her.

Draco frowned and waited till Theo, chuckling to himself, made his way past them both and out the door. He stood from his seat and ushered for Hermione to leave first. She twitched an eyebrow at him, thinking he must find her stupid if she were to let him walk behind her.

Instead of conforming to what the Hermione would have preferred, Draco sauntered his way forward and fell a foot short from her person. She edged backwards only to find there was a desk immediately behind her that she clumsily knocked into, halting her retrear. He gave her a patronising smile.

"Come now, Granger. If you want to spend the night with me, you only need to ask."

Hermione blushed and adjusted her skirt. "Oh, please. I just want to get quickly to bed, so if you wouldn't mind moving along."

Draco quirked a brow and smirked, licking his lip as he waited for her to retract her words. She screwed her face in disgust and tutted loudly.

"You know what I meant," she muttered, indicating again but with a pointed look that he should exit the room first. "You don't intimidate me, so I suggest you leave."

Draco's expression turned quickly into something quite hauntingly beautiful, his pale skin and sharp features reflected the limited blue light. His eyes darkened burning her with the intensity of his gaze. Hermione had to flicker her own away from his as she felt a flutter in her chest.

Stepping forward, she reached out as if to caress her cheek, ghosting his thumb under her chin. He lent towards her, his lips burning the air between hers but he did not touch her, not anywhere on her body. Hermione felt a trickling shiver run up her arms.

"I don't?" he whispered against her lips, his eyes darting feverishly between hers. She knew that her cheeks were flushing pink and for all of her she couldn't reply to him.

He chuckled, his breath tickling her skin, before withdrawing himself and striding out of the classroom. Hermione gathered herself before jogging after him, wand in hand.

She saw Draco and Theo's retreating forms in the dark corridor, and just before they turned at the bend, Hermione twisted her wrist sending an orange spark directly at Draco's ankle. She heard him let out a hiss as the Stinging hex reached him. He spun around with his wand aimed high, but it was too late; she had already disappeared through the painting of the Taming of the Lion opposite The Fox Hunt.


	7. Chapter 7

It was Wednesday, which meant it was time again for their next Potions lesson and Hermione was less than enthused to see what Draco would say about the spell she had struck him with the other night.

She hadn't seen him at all in the Great Hall or out and about during the night-time patrols. Hermione even made sure to check the girls' toilet on the second floor, only to find Moaning Myrtle wailing about not having "any handsome visitors" anymore. Not that she felt that she should take up any stalker-like tendencies, but there was something fishy going on with Malfoy

She had seen him in Arithmancy the day before, but he had arrived on time and didn't do anything that was particularly out of the ordinary. He had chosen a seat near the front, which gave Hermione the perfect view to watch him from the back row but she had hoped he would've sat in his usual place.

She wasn't scared of him, but there was a looming threat that he might disturb the peace. He may have mentioned the Cruciatus curse to Theodore Nott, but he was just a boy of big words and little action. Then again, he wasn't a boy anymore. The picture in the Daily Prophet of him didn't quite look like the little scared blond boy she had always known. She decided to watch over him, at least to make sure he wasn't up to something.

Professor Slughorn shuffled around the classroom with various bits and bobs in his hands, mumbling nothings to himself. Interestingly, the potion this week was a blood replenishing potion – something different from the previous classes, but Hermione found this challenge exciting. Students moaned when they heard it would take twenty-seven days to concoct and would need to be taken care of to stay effective.

Hermione guessed that Slughorn didn't expect the class to finish the potion, just that they only really needed the theory for their exam, which wouldn't take a month to complete.

Slughorn simply put it that "a good potion can sometimes take twenty-eight days just like a fine steak."

After looking around the room and noticing that everyone had been paired up, Hermione groaned knowing that her potions partner this week would be Malfoy. This was the moment that he would surely confront her about the hex she had sent him on Monday. Although, it was particularly un-Malfoy-like of him to have not caused a raucous scene about it yet.

She watched as he walked to the front of the class to hand in his performance review where he received a knowing look from Slughorn. He apologised for arriving late and then retreated, scanning the room for a free seat before identifying Hermione as his new partner. He smirked and strolled over, pulling his wand out of his pocket. Hermione stiffened and reached for her wand, but she needn't have bothered. Draco had Accio'd the ingredients for the potion using non-verbal magic and summoned his books from his satchel.

"How…" she started regrettably. Draco turned to her, his eyes glistening with amusement.

"Yes?"

She supposed she ought to say it now.

"How are you so adept at non-verbal spell casting?"

"Can't keep up, Granger?" he smirked. Draco examined the recipe and began the day's work.

"No, I just assumed you would rather boss people around than do any work yourself," she smiled.

"Well when you can't be better than you inferiors, how do you expect to best your equals?"

Hermione scoffed. "That's to say you're superior."

"Well, to put it so nicely; yes, I am superior."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, head shaking in dismay.

"To have such a magnanimous opinion of yourself, you'd expect that there would be someone out there that respected you," she replied coolly. This wasn't quite where she wanted this conversation to go, but the banter was mildly entertaining.

"I'm surprised, Granger. I know your brain isn't as frizzy as your hair but with the simple fact that you have not taken this potion off my hands means you respect my talents within potions, which is also exemplified by the fact that you would rather watch than contribute. I assume that makes you feel inferior. Not to mention you blush whenever I'm near, so you obviously find me more attractive than your ginger-nut sidekick boyfriend." Malfoy scraped off some powder from his knife into the potion and picked up an aconite root.

Hermione flushed a brilliant red but tried to hide it with anger. She grabbed the root out of his hand and began crushing it into a paste. Her head was whirling with profanities. How could she like anyone like him?

"Just the thought of that makes me feel sick. Quite disturbing," scoffed Hermione.

"I know," replied Draco, feigning concern. She looked at him through her lashes. "It is a terrible, terrible thing to do to your best-friend of eight years and to have led him on like that," he said shaking his head with a quirk of his brow, "and to then fall for the poor bloke's arch enemy? I couldn't live it down, personally. You're brave, Granger. Exceptionally so."

She stared at him in utter shock. Was this truly happening? She couldn't tell if he was pulling her leg or not but she supposed he must be. Whatever his intentions were she might as well play along – see where that would get her.

"Well, you better run, Malfoy. There's a Mudblood chasing after you," she chuckled.

"I'll be waiting," he replied throatily. Their eyes met, but Hermione had to slam down the flask in her hand onto the table to cope with the oddity.

"Alright Malfoy, what are you playing? Tell me the truth," she demanded, irked that she had surrendered so quickly, but this was too weird.

He cleared his throat. "Nothing, Granger."

"Oh, that is utter ... Come on Malfoy, what are you planning?" She asked in frustration.

"Granger, the only thing I am planning today is when to get my revenge on the stinging hex you sent me the other night," he said dryly. Hermione considered this and figured that he wouldn't tell her even if she begged him (even knowing that he would find it unbelievably amusing. Twat).

"Well it has taken you long enough…" she said, noting him smile unnervingly. They were silent for a few beats taking in the bubbling, boiling and splashing sounds that surrounded them from other workstations.

Hermione wanted to at least get one thing straight from the Slytherin in front of her. "Would you really use the Cruciatus curse on Theo?" His eyebrows scrunched together, his smile still set in place.

"Do you ever stop talking, Granger?"

"No."

"Oh fantastic," he drawled, pouring a purple liquid into the cauldron. Hermione added the paste she had been making.

"Fine. Answer me this then. Why are you talking to me?"

"I don't know how it has escaped your notice, Granger, but assuming that it has even though I cannot imagine how anyone could be that brainless; we are partners in this class. Conversing with one another does seem like an inevitable and tragically unavoidable part of this whole situation." Hermione blushed and flicked her eyes between Malfoy and the empty spaces surrounding him, trying to think of a way to not look incompetent, but just failing at it. "Lost for words? Well, you're not the first girl to be flustered by me."

"I most certainly am _not_ flustered by you!" she hissed.

"Denial is the first stage …" he mumbled, focussing intently on the number of drops of clear liquid from a pipette he was putting into the potion.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth completely stunned at the man in front of her. Malfoy turned to her and quickly raised both of his eyebrows before putting the stopper back into the vial.

She felt like she was always losing at the conversations she was having recently with Malfoy. 'Conversations' was too bold a word, really… they had, stare offs and then Monday night happened.

The stinging hex she had sent him obviously didn't pose a strong enough offence to him to qualify her as having leverage over him. It was perplexing and quite frankly made her reevaluate every conversation she had ever had with him. None had ever left her thinking she cared about his reaction or his words, yet somehow he was irking her like no one ever had. It made her angry not understanding any of it.

Hermione pursed her lips and sat stiffly in her seat. What was even going on? She barely had the time to ask the man about what he and Theodore Nott were searching for before her mental tangent left her with a muddled brain.

"Do you ever stop talking, Malfoy?" was her lame retort.

His tongue stroked his back teeth. "Yes," he said with a wink.

Hermione gnawed on her lip for the rest of the class as they continued adding ingredients to the potion. When class ended Slughorn inspected each cauldron, then waved his wand to keep them safe until the next lesson. By the time she had turned back to her table, Malfoy had already disappeared with his new Slytherin cronies, Nott and Zabini. She waited for Harry and Ron before they left for their next lesson.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione couldn't deny that it had been an eventful week. Hearing Malfoy and Theodore Nott talking about a mysterious something and needing help and then Malfoy's mention of the Cruciatus curse, whether in jest or not, had her head reeling. Then the disabling conversation during Potions on Wednesday. She was also a bit paranoid about Malfoy seeking revenge, which he had yet to do. It was all so confusing especially having to think of all the homework that was assigned and her Head Girl duties.

Hermione barely had time to think let alone sit down and relax for herself, perhaps with a book and a mug of tea. The professors were undoubtedly taking out all the stops this year, McGonagall particularly.

It was clear that by Friday everyone was too tired even to be happy that it was the weekend, knowing they had only had more work and studying ahead of them. Hermione had half a mind to continue her conversation with Malfoy in their next Potions lesson since they shared a potion together, it wasn't helpful that nobody was eager to talk that day. It would have been too obvious to converse in such a quiet room, even with the bubbling and hissing of potions and the scribbling sounds of quill to parchment.

It was only at Ron and Ginny's insistence that Hermione took a break from all the work and pressure that she found herself at the Quidditch trials on Saturday afternoon.

High in one of the stands, Hermione watched Harry bark out instructions to teams of players (as it turned out there were many students who wanted to try out for the team) to go against each other in mini-games. Harry had to send away seventeen boys and girls who weren't even in Gryffindor.

She cheered for Ginny who swooped and swerved around the players, expertly using her skills to obtain and keep the quaffle in her team's possession. Her teamwork also awarded her extra points.

Ron surprised her yet again this year as he blocked every attempt made at the goalposts. His confidence had soared, and it was quite pleasant to watch him excel in the sport. Ron often caught Hermione smiling at him from the stands and would wave or make a silly face at an inopportune time that would mean he would have to lunge and swerve to repel the quaffle.

Harry was weaving back and forth not only assessing for the Gryffindor team but also just helping the candidates to better their form or their batting arms. Due to this, the try-outs lasted longer than they should have, but everyone was happy to be flying that it didn't matter.

Harry blew his whistle for the final time and commanded that all should get in the changing rooms and wash up after such a long day. Harry sighed, pleased with the outcome of the day and finding the perfect team. He glanced over to where Hermione sat and glided over to her neatly before landing beside her on the bench.

"You did brilliantly, Harry," Hermione beamed at him.

"Thanks," he breathed before slumping down next to her. "Merlin, I'm knackered," he yawned leaning back so that his head rested on the seat behind him. Hermione nudged him gently with her shoulder.

"Nothing you couldn't handle."

"Ha! I feel like everyone is making that my motto," he gave another yawn. "At least it's consistent."

"Harry …" Hermione started but then paused.

"Mhm?" He looked at her with one eye cracked open.

She bit her lip.

"Do … do you ever feel," she gulped, "lonely?"

She watched a frown slowly creep onto his semi-sleeping face. He yawned again before eying her sleepily.

"I have ... actually ..." Harry rolled his head to the side, his eyelids drooping every half a second. Hermione pursed her lips and gave the boy in front of her a small frown. She knew Harry had had difficulty in school – understandably so – but she thought that since the war was over that he might have felt relaxed and able to talk about it all. Now that she took a moment to think about it, Harry had been quite quiet about the whole ordeal. Maybe he spoke to Ginny about it… but then he wouldn't be feeling lonely, would he?

Hermione focussed her eyes on the pitch in front of them. She felt Harry's hand enter hers and rub small circles with his thumb. She turned to him and smiled softly, to which he gave a weak lopsided grin in return.

"'Mione, you know you can tell me anything. I'll always be here for you."

Hermione's smile faltered, but she squeezed his hand.

"I know," she whispered. "I'll always be there for you too, Harry."

It was a long while later that Hermione heard Ron and Ginny walking up the stand to reach them. Harry had fallen asleep against her shoulder, and so she gently nudged him awake, their hands still clasped. Once Harry had changed out of his robes the four of them headed up to the castle, all very tired from the day's work.

* * *

Draco lay on his four-poster and gazed lazily at the creatures of the Great Lake as they swam and interacted with each other. The green hue of the ceiling was relaxing, and although Draco's mind had been far from relaxed recently he needed to try to take a breather, or he felt that his head might burst from the pain.

Not only was Draco struggling with his homework, which he would be expelled and interrogated for if he didn't complete – lest another sixth-year episode were to happen again – but he was no closer in locating any information on what he was searching. He was starting to think it didn't exist.

Draco's eyes widened momentarily as the thought gripped him. What if it didn't exist? He felt the now familiar feeling of his heart starting to palpitate. Chewing on his lip, he pressed his head into the pillow until his neck ached. He sighed, shaking the thought from his mind. It has to be real. He just needed some time and a clue, any clue. He just didn't know where to look.

He found out soon after the Hogwarts year had started that it was quite tricky to walk down the corridors being who he was. Every which way he went, he could feel their suspicious eyes following every move he made. Many of the students turned their heads at him and not just at him but his friends as well. It was frustrating, and Draco felt a compromised on his privacy

Last week's Daily Prophet article had his growling face as front page news with the words "I'm Not A Murderer" typed boldly as the headline. Draco couldn't deny that if he didn't know himself, he would've thought that man was a murderer.

It's wasn't like he hadn't received attention before the war, but the stares he was getting now didn't make him feel great in the slightest. Even the professors were giving him a harder time, to which they would then hand him his class performance review sheet and at the end of the week, he would present these to McGonagall. He blamed his tardiness on the fact that he was trying to avoid confrontations with other students, who would sometimes take it upon themselves to tell him exactly what they thought of him.

He had learnt to control himself during these taunts, but it wasn't as if it didn't bother him. He'd often find his fingers stiff from the pressure of squeezing them so hard and his head hurt more often than not.

Madam Pomfrey had given him very little medicine to calm his headaches, telling him that he should "stop moaning and get back to class". He stopped going to the Hospital Wing to ask for Dreamless Sleep Potion when she told him his nightmares "couldn't be any worse than others". To say he was surprised by her words was an understatement. He knew she was a tad anal about her patients, but she had never dismissed him so readily before.

It was as if the entire house of Slytherin were pariahs as if they had had a choice in the war. Voldemort was a sadistic and psychotic madman, and he tortured and murdered people beyond recognition, and made you watch for his own enjoyment.

Was what happened to him and his friends any of their choice? He could bet that more than half of the people involved were scared of their own decisions, wondering how it had gotten that far. He knew his parents had reached their limit when Voldemort had included him in his plans. Their efforts in trying to stop the snake from involving their son were brave; their lives were at stake. Draco loathed the snake. He was glad he was dead.

When his father went to Azkaban, Draco had to step up and protect his mother. He remembered her screams… remembered the ringlets of tears matting her face. His aunt had keeled over and had her face pressed against the dark stone floor of Malfoy Manor, whispering and pleading the Dark Lord to stop. Draco remembered his tears, his hair sticking to his face as he sweated out all of his emotions, eyes bleary and throat coarse. Voldemort had silenced him so he could watch his mother writhe in pain in tortured silence.

His aunt had been pushed aside, which to her was all she needed to submit and stand quietly at the torture of her sister.

It was nearing dinnertime, and so Draco pulled himself off the bed. He made his way through the Common Room following a few other students on their way to the Great Hall.

When he entered the Entrance Hall, he heard her speaking before he saw her. Glancing to the side, he watched as Granger walked briskly away from her friends before shooting off up the staircase. The two Weasley's went forth to get their dinner, but Draco was intrigued to see that Potter was looking after his friend with a concerned face. The man didn't follow her, and he supposed, thinking about it later, that that was one of his mistakes. So after waiting for Potter to clear off, Draco went after the girl instead.

He found her in a nearby empty corridor facing a tall, ornately decorated window. The moonlight lit her face with an eerie, milky glow and her eyes were glistening. It froze him.

He had a plan to torment her, to provoke her after the stinging hex she had sent him on Monday but the sight in front of him was mesmerising. It was a stolen moment; he wasn't meant to see any of this. The air wasn't especially cold, but the brunette in front of him slowly brought her left arm up to clutch against her chest, closing her eyes as she did.

She gave a silent yet ragged sigh, her parted mouth holding back the tension in her body. It was strange to see but not altogether something that Draco couldn't empathise. It was familiar to him because he had stood where she stood two years prior.

Draco moved mutely closer to her and stopped to inspect her face, a mere metre away.

"I'll be down in a moment, Harry," she said breathlessly. When she didn't hear a reply or any sound of Draco moving away, she added, "I'm fine. Really, I'm… okay."

Draco frowned, wondering why she hadn't opened her eyes yet and he, quite frankly, did not know what to do if she did. Should he speak? Should he tell Granger that it wasn't her best friend but her enemy, her long-time tormentor who had her as vulnerable as she could be, standing in beside her? Should he walk away? Draco waited five more seconds, almost willing the girl to open her eyes; she didn't.

Draco slowly backed away and managed to turn the corner without her seeing him. He rested against the wall there and squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his forehead in concentration. Grinding his teeth, he pushed off against the wall right into Hermione who had rounded the corner. Their clash shocked them both, each clutching at each other's sleeves.

As he saw recognition creep onto her face, Draco dramatically let go, which she did too. He cleared his throat and squinted as if to look at something interesting over her head.

"Oh, M-Malfoy," stuttered Hermione.

"Potter, I-uh, just saw Potter," he exclaimed loudly, shifting his eyes down to her large perplexed brown ones. "He was looking for you…" he finished pathetically.

"Oh, right. Yes. Sorry for, um… did you honestly see Harry?" She asked confusedly.

"Well I can't be sure, but there aren't many bespectacled, wonder-boy gits roaming around, are there? If you hurry, you might just catch him. He ought to be pottering around the Great Hall."

Hermione smiled weakly at his pun but wasn't convinced.

"It was you I was talking to, not Harry," she stated. Draco could tell from her tone that she was embarrassed. It was rather quaint of her to still hold onto such emotions, considering all her achievements thus far. He looked down at her face which, only a moment ago painted pale by the gleam of the moon, was indeed tinted a rosy colour. Draco saw the weakness in her eyes as if she would quite simply, 'let go'.

"Watching your pitiful excuse of a meltdown is hardly interesting to me, Granger, but I'd say it was more like you were talking to yourself rather than to me. I just so happened to walk down this corridor and stumble upon your … crisis."

"I can control myself."

Just from those small words, Draco got the succinct impression that the girl wished she didn't have to. Or she wanted to release emotions held back for the sake of others' convenience. He wondered if that was why she came across as high-strung but he never expected Granger to feel anything other than prideful.

Draco gave a gentle sigh. "You shouldn't have to."

She looked up at him then, mutely asking him with her puzzled eyes shifting between his. Draco scolded himself mentally. He walked into this unprepared, no plan of action.

"You don't have to either," Draco continued. He knew how it sounded, but if he needed that help, then he would need to gain some form of her trust. Too approachable and she would know there was something wrong. He waited for a beat. "I'm sure your friends can help you with that."

With a slight frown and a nod, she said "right," contritely before faltering her movements to try and move past Draco.

"Granger," Draco called after her.

"Yes?" She answered innocently.

"You are allowed to grieve, even when you don't feel like you have the right to."

Granger bit her lip, holding back tears that she didn't want him to see. They happened anyway and were quickly wiped away with a small sniff and a feeble smile.

"You too, Malfoy."

He followed her down to the Great Hall, where they sat at opposite ends of the room, each conversing with their friends, and neither one of them breaking their contrived happy faces.

* * *

The following week brought Hermione's birthday and several useful gifts from her friends and many of the professors too.

Being inundated with homework, Hermione found that time moved both impossibly slowly and yet quickly all at once. It was easy to bury herself in her work and concentrate on her Head Girl duties because working hard was what Hermione did best. But now and then her thoughts were invaded by Draco Malfoy.

Hermione couldn't help but feel embarrassed knowing that he had seen her in a vulnerable position. Since starting back at Hogwarts it seemed as if he was everywhere or more likely, Hermione was noticing him more, but she couldn't fathom why that would be the case. She remembered the conversation she had had with Harry and Ron on their first night back, about giving him a second chance. Strangely, Hermione felt as if Malfoy was giving her the same opportunity too.

But… he was up to something. It couldn't have been a coincidence that he had been in the same corridor as her that night. Was he searching for something or had he followed her there? Hermione groaned and pressed into her temples.

It kept jumping into her mind that on the one hand she should be highly concerned that an ex-Death Eater was acting abnormally but on the other hand… It wasn't her turn to take a mind of what Malfoy was doing. Sure she would keep an eye out, but this really shouldn't be of any interest to her. It's Draco Malfoy for Merlin's sake! He changed sides during the war – hadn't he?

"It's not your job, Hermione," she would often remind herself.

She tried her best to ignore him. Of course, it worked when they didn't have classes together but when Arithmancy or Potions came along it was a little trickier to do. He sat alone in Arithmancy, and if Hermione arrived late, she often found herself a couple of seats down from him on the same bench. Also having him as a partner for a potion project that lasted twenty-eight days it meant a lot of quiet hour-long lessons.

Following that evening when she had found Draco and Theo in the classroom, it surprisingly became much easier the less she interacted with him. He hadn't acted suspiciously since either. He arrived late to Potions, but that was the only class, from what Hermione could tell. She also insisted on checking classrooms on her night time patrols, which extended the time it took to do rounds by thirty or so minutes. Her patrol partner would often drop off early, saying they needed to get their homework done, which Hermione couldn't argue.

She stopped checking over her shoulder when she realised that Malfoy would've found more pleasure in knowing that Hermione Granger was paranoid for an attack that wasn't coming. At least she could relax a little.

* * *

It was the second week of October and she already felt like how she had in her third year. Only this time she didn't have her time-turner with her.

Of course, Hermione was still Hermione. She was taking more classes than her peers, but if she didn't fill her time up with homework, she knew she'd spiral down back into that black space again. Schoolwork was her distraction, and it helped.

She had been writing essay after essay and took to writing some of those during classes for other subjects. She was also filling in applications for further education in the Wizarding universities around the world and for jobs at the Ministry. She barely had time to talk to anyone let alone focus on anything going on around her. Ginny tried to draw her out of the library, but her attempts fell short rather quickly.

Her mind was so busy and focussed that she barely registered when Malfoy was consistently ten minutes late to potions lessons. Today was the last day of their blood replenishing potion, which Hermione now suspected would be one of the lists of processes needed for a question in the N.E.W.T exam. Should she start revising this – because it's a lengthy procedure? Hermione was drafting up her study calendar when she heard the contemptuous laugh of Draco Malfoy as he sat down in the seat next to hers.

Hermione finished scribbling down a sentence, making sure the ink had dried before turning her attention to her blond partner. She quirked a brow at him and watched his smirk falter and flatten into a thin line. Hermione turned back to her parchment, a small smile for herself set in place.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm when they started on their potion again, each knowing what stage the other was preparing for and adding the ingredients at the correct times. Hermione quite enjoyed having a partner who was competent and confident in their work; it was a refreshing change of pace.

Draco seemed rather harmless when he was acting mature and not being a git, although Hermione did have to remind herself that they had yet to speak. There were several reasons why she thought to ignore him, and whatever it seemed he was scheming. Namely, by Harry's account, Malfoy hadn't shown that he genuinely wanted to kill Dumbledore, and of course when he hadn't turned Ron, Harry and herself in for Voldemort in his Manor. So did she have to worry about him jesting with a friend? Perhaps not. Was he acting suspiciously? Yes, but did she have to care? No! Hermione smiled contentedly; this would be the last time she had to worry about Draco Malfoy.

"Hey, Hermione, can you take a look at this? I'm not sure it smells quite right," Harry asked with a scrunch of his face.

Hermione took a glance at Harry's partner, Daphne, who was pinching her nose and had teary eyes. She dropped the spoon she was using to scoop lacewing flies out of a jar, wiped her hands on her apron and strode over to Harry's desk. She barely took a proper whiff before she could smell the acrid, rotten scent of Harry and Daphne's potion. It was also bubbling rather quickly. Holding her hand against her nose, Hermione waved her wand to lower the flame underneath the cauldron.

"You're cooking it on too high a flame," she coughed. "Try using a cooling charm to lower the temperature of it, but I think you might have burnt it…"

Harry scowled before muttering a 'sorry' to Daphne, who in turn shrugged her shoulders and laughed. Seeing the humour, Harry started to chuckle alongside his partner.

"Earn your marks back by writing what went wrong in the report, I mean the textbook was quite vague in their instructions; 'cast a fire'," Hermione said with a point to the section on the page of Harry's textbook. She took another sniff at the potion and could already smell the difference. "The potion is salvageable. You haven't failed."

"Thanks, 'Mione."

Hermione smiled and turned back to her bench only to see that her partner was glaring daggers at her with a curled lip.

"I'm so glad I get to put your name next to my assignment," derided Malfoy.

"What is that supposed to mean? Frankly, I thought we were doing rather well together," questioned Hermione, offended by his change in demeanour. This being the first time they had spoken in weeks.

"This is a joint assignment, so when you're off socialising you might not want to leave all the work to your partner," he muttered.

"Oh that's rich, Malfoy," she hissed. "Every lesson you've turned up ten minutes late – shall I add up those minutes and tell you just how much you've been slacking? And I wasn't socialising… Harry and your friend needed my help."

"You need to keep focused on what's on hand here, Granger. You don't have weekly meetings with McGonagall on your performance," growled Draco.

"And you need not drag me into your problems."

"I'm not dragging you into anything; this was an obligatory assignment, and I don't have four hands."

Hermione scowled. "You have a wand…" she mumbled as she leaned over the textbook to read the next set of instructions. She felt a sharp nudge in her side from the man beside her, almost eliciting a shout at Malfoy out for being a foul little–

"I thought you were clever," he nodded at the cauldron, telling her she should add the lacewings before ruining the potion for good. She hastily dropped them in.

"I'm sorry, I don't usually work with arrogant arseholes."

"Must be a breath of fresh air from your own conceited mind. Honestly, I don't understand why Weaslebee and Pea-brain didn't kill themselves after finding out their biggest curse was actually you all along."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the blond. "Inbred," she retorted.

"Me? Inbred? Don't be ridiculous. Weasley on the other hand…" he quipped thoughtfully.

"You haven't changed at all, and to think I was going to allow you to redeem yourself!" She watched as Malfoy drummed his fingers lightly on the tabletop before giving her a sidelong glance.

"I'm flattered that you paid me so much thought, Granger." He turned to face her. "We've both changed," he whispered, which caused a soft shiver to run over Hermione unwillingly, "and I really need you to stop being narcissistic, so this is a good step towards beating that habit."

"I am not a narcissist! I'm perfectly rounded!"

Draco raised an eyebrow at her words as he stirred the potion.

"You insulted my boyfriend, who isn't even here to defend himself, so of course I am irritated with you."

"All I was saying, Granger, is that for a family with that many red-heads, there has to have been a moment where they got confused with who's who," smirked Draco.

Hermione closed her eyes and counted to ten. When she finally opened them she caught Malfoy staring amusedly down at her, so she closed her eyes again and repeated the mantra, this time muttering the seconds away. She gave one final breath and continued with the rest of the potion in front of her.

As the bell rang for the end of class, Hermione began to clear away the desk and somehow managed to nick Malfoy on his arm with a cutting knife. She had cut deep, and the blood quickly stained his white shirt a brilliant red.

"Salazar fucking Slytherin!" Draco exclaimed as he grabbed Hermione's wrist and twisted the blade out of her hands.

"Oh, no! I'm sorry Malfoy, I didn't mean to–"

"Watch it," he winced. Hermione cut off her apology when she saw the flash in his eyes. She felt her cheeks burn under the weight of it but only then realised that he was gripping her wrist tight enough that she recoiled from the pressure.

"Malfoy, you're hurting me…" she gasped and immediately felt his hand leave her wrist. She watched as he backed away and turned to Slughorn's desk to get his signed sheet back before stalking out of the classroom.

Hermione was relieved that she wouldn't have to sit next to Draco at least for a few good months. He was so frustrating that Hermione stormed out of the classroom and only realised that she had left Harry and Ron behind when they had to jog up beside her.

"What's up, Hermione?" Ron asked as he was trying to mend the burnt cuffs of his sleeve with his wand.

"I'm glad that lesson is over," she replied with gritted teeth.

"Why what happened?"

"Nothing, Ronald. I don't care to talk about it."

"Was it Malfoy? Did he say something?"

"Just leave it, I'm fine."

"Well if he said something to you I might just have to teach him a lesson," Ron said with unnecessary heroism.

"Ron! Please, just shush for a moment, I don't need any help or rescuing. Just drop it will you?"

"Yeah… sure thing, Hermione," grunted Ron as he split off from the group heading towards the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Harry, why is it that men constantly want to grind my gears?"

"I don't think that was what Ron was doing, but I'll leave that to you two," Harry's tone alone made Hermione feel immediately guilty for getting angry at Ron. After all, it was Malfoy she was irritated with not him.

"I think the homework is getting to me…" she sighed, "I better fix this… I'll see you around, Harry."

Harry nodded as he watched his other best friend walk up the staircase. He was suddenly gripped by fear that perhaps Ron and Hermione would someday argue like they used to and that nothing would be able to hold them together. He adjusted his glasses and made his way alone up the stairs, like he often had in the past, in search of Seamus, Dean, Neville or Ginny. Perhaps they would like a game of Exploding Snap before dinner.

* * *

That evening, after Hermione had apologised to Ron, they were all sat down for dinner. Harry was sitting with Ginny and Ron with Hermione. Ron had his arm slung around her, having finished his share and watching Hermione start her Ancient Runes essay that she had gotten before lunch.

"Mione, do you ever stop to relax?"

"This is relaxing, Ronald." She lifted up her head and made a small mark on Ron's nose with a flick of her quill. She giggled as he rubbed the ink over his skin.

"I'll get you back for that," he chuckled before pecking her on the lips. She blushed before returning to her essay. "Is there any reason why Malfoy is glaring daggers at you, Mione?"

She looked up at the Slytherin table, searching for the blond-haired ferret. 'Ha! That would have been a good insult!' She thought. Hermione made a note to use that remark next time.

She found Draco next to Pansy Parkinson, who was getting more frustrated with the boy the more she talked and the less he listened. Malfoy was indeed looking at Hermione quite unperturbed he was caught. He raised his eyebrow at her challengingly.

Hermione scowled at him, making sure that he noticed, to which he merely licked his lip quickly before standing up and patting Nott's back, signalling him to follow him out of the Great Hall. Pansy looked as if she was about to follow but thought better of it.

"I accidentally caught his arm with my knife in Potions."

"Hah! Bet he deserved it."

"Well, he is a pure-bred prejudiced prick," she mused, entertained that she had found another insult.' Gods, why does it never come when you need them to!' Ron looked at her in surprise, quite proud of his girlfriend even though she rarely said any of these types of things.

* * *

Hermione was finishing up her Defence Against the Dark Arts essay, due the following Monday about how to subdue an alpha chimaera and how rebels have used them. Unfortunately, she couldn't quite remember if Hagrid or Professor Grubbly-Plank had covered them in Care of Magical Creatures so had to do extensive research on the animal. Hermione already researched the 1678 Magical Creature's Rights Act of mainland Britain and the case study of Earnest Eckling (one of Lockhart's numerous story providers) who dealt with the same situation. Hermione blanched as she read the case study, noting that it read word-for-word how Lockhart had 'written' it in his book.

Looking over her essay again, she crossed her T's and dotted her I's and rolled it up neatly before putting her things in her bag, with a contented sigh.

Content that is, until she spotted him.

"I really do think stalking is beneath you, Malfoy."

He stood watching her while leaning against the wall with his white shirt rolled up at the sleeves, his Slytherin green tie loosened and black trousers. She saw the cut on his arm, which although was healing made her wonder why he hadn't yet gone to Madam Pomfrey to get rid of the scar. His blond hair stood tussled, and she couldn't help but admire him from where she sat. He looked cool, whether Hermione liked it or not. She decided after he didn't reply straight away that she didn't.

Well…

"Granger, you don't know how easy it would be…"

"Easy…?"

He smirked, pushed off the wall and stalked towards her. He leant down until she could feel his breath on her face. Hermione mentally kicked herself for thinking he smelt divine. His warm breath heated her cheek, nearly touched her own. She dared not move, sure that if she did she would lose whatever battle they were playing. He gave a soft laugh, making her shiver, which he undoubtedly noticed. He pulled back up, a book in his pale hands. She looked confusedly at him before realising he had taken it out of her bag, the look on his face was of pure enjoyment.

"You're not the only one with an essay," he said pacing backwards, before spinning around down the row of bookshelves with his hand in his pocket and the book tucked under his arm before rounding a corner out of view.

Hermione sat there a little dumbfounded. It wasn't unlike Malfoy to be incredibly annoying, but he had never done that. This truly was confusing. It was only days ago that they had their little tit in Potions class. What was he playing?

Perhaps she was expecting him to be broody and intolerant and the same as usual. His parents were soulless bodies, and here he was… flirting? Dare she think the word?

Frowning, Hermione made her way to follow Draco. She found him sitting at a table not too far away from where she had been sitting. He was alone, although it looked like there were others who had been sitting with him that had gotten up to find a book or gone to the lavatory. She walked right up to his desk and waited for him to look up at her from the book he had just stolen.

"What was that about?"

"Pardon?" he lilted, his arrogant voice egging Hermione on.

"With the whole 'You don't know how easy it would be' thing," she mimicked crudely.

"Granger, I only meant it as how easy it would be to take your book. What could I possibly have meant otherwise with that remark?"

Hermione faltered. She didn't want to accept that he had somehow affected her at that moment. That would've been a complete and utterly stupid thing to admit. Nor did she want to presume that he had been flirting because what if he hadn't been? No, he had been… She chastised herself for thinking she would get any other answer from Malfoy other than a carefully planned one that would leave her embarrassed.

"You seem to think you can play games with me Malfoy. You forget that we barely know each other."

"So are you suggesting that your friends are allowed to play games with you? I have to say, if that's the case, then Weasley doesn't hold back."

Hermione scowled at him but pulled back a chair and sat down. She saw his eyes bulge in surprise.

"What it Merlin's name do you think you're doing?"

"Well, clearly I want to talk to you," hissed Hermione.

"We don't talk, Granger." He glanced over his shoulder for possible witnesses.

"How in God's name do you walk around, and do what you do, and think that I won't question your motives?"

"What?" he asked in frustration, having half an ear to the conversation.

"You're – You're," Hermione seethed, "You just came over and flirted with me as if it were nothing!"

Malfoy halted his paranoid glances around the Library and turned sharply to Hermione. "As I said, Granger, I wanted the book. I wasn't flirting. Keep your knickers on," he sneered.

"You so were! And you could have just asked for the book instead, and you know it."

"Oh, like you didn't enjoy it."

"So, I was correct; you were flirting."

"So what?" He snapped. Hermione started uttering non-words in her confusion and surprise. Malfoy tore his gaze from her and continued to scan the shelves for any possible on-lookers.

"You've gone mental," she stated plainly.

"Haven't we all," muttered Draco. He turned around suddenly and asked with a face as serious as they came, "Have you read over one thousand books in this library?"

"What kind of question is that?" she asked, but Draco gave no indication he would respond. "Well, yes, I suppose I have."

"A broad range of subjects or…?"

"I'm not sure what you're getting at, Malfoy," she replied sceptically.

"Just answer the question. What have you read?"

"I don't know, a whole array of books on subjects I have and haven't taken – Herbology, Art, Alchemy, Ancient Studies, Light, Dark magic, fiction, non-fiction – I really don't understand why you're interested in my reading habits, Malfoy."

"The Restricted Section too?" he whispered.

It was an instantaneous feeling of confusion, scepticism and a curling fear in her gut. Her eyes flickered unblinkingly back and forth between Draco's, a true sense of disbelief at his determinedly fixed stare back at her. Hermione stood abruptly making her chair scrape against the stone floor. She looked accusingly at the man sitting down in front of her, mouth wide in aghast. Is he…?

"What do we have here? A lover's tryst?" came the voice of Theodore Nott. He was strolling down the corridor with a couple of hefty tomes in his hand. He was grinning mischievously at them and waggling his brows.

"No," Draco and Hermione replied in unison.

"Right…" he drawled. "Draco, do you want to finish up here? The girls are setting up for tonight, and Blaise thinks we can get some more drinks from the kitchens."

"The more, the better," Draco said as he spun his wand to clear the desk of his belongings. He stood up, and he and Theo were about to leave when he turned back, looking expectantly at Hermione. "What is it, Granger?"

Hermione looked sternly at both boys. "You're throwing a party?"

Draco shuffled his feet, "No." It was obviously a lie, but she had no way to prove that it was true either unless she followed the boys. However, that would mean she would be involved more in Draco Malfoy's life than Hermione wanted to be, and that was something she thought she could forget about these last few weeks.

"You're more than welcome to join in on the non-party we Slytherin's are not holding but I would rather you didn't bring your little posse with you," Theo said salaciously. Hermione ignored him and looked at Draco.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Ah, does dear Drakey need some tutoring lessons? You here to help him, Granger?"

Sighing and quite finished with the conversation, Hermione stepped out away from the table, "No, never mind. I was just about to leave." She heard the men share a laugh as she walked back to where her table was and picked up her bag, ready to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room when she paused.

 _'Help him, Granger? … You wouldn't go there in a million years, but I'd like to see you try – quite the challenge for you … Well, looky here, Draco. Just what we wanted … Have you read over one thousand books in this library? … The Restricted Section too?_ '

Hermione clapped her gawping mouth shut as she analysed the conversation she just had, a frown quickly forming on her face. ' _A challenge that was the last resort to help find a person or – no a thing, Malfoy wants to find something but doesn't know enough information of substance to find it … and he has been acting differently … flirtatious … an added benefit? He wanted to know what I had read … No-no-no, Hermione. Don't get ahead of yourself … you don't know enough …'_

Hermione inhaled a large breath and shook her head in dire need of a tall goblet of water. She made her way slowly to the Great Hall, thinking all the while about Draco Malfoy, knowing despite herself that she would confront him later that evening.

* * *

 **Three in a day, woo! Thoughts please...! I've never written anything this long before so I'm shit scared (pardon the language). – Tooxi**


	9. Chapter 9

"I don't know if I can," she leaned into him with a sigh and a pout of her lips. "Perhaps, if you showed me how…?" The question made Draco twitch in anticipation, a smirk forming slowly on his face.

The music and the people were so loud around them that proper conversation was moot, although that was precisely the aim. It was Blaise's nineteenth birthday, and his fellow Slytherin lackeys and a bunch of girls twirling their hair and batting their eyes surrounded him. His laughter was sometimes louder than the music.

There were a few students from other houses but not nearly as many as there used to be when the Slytherins had held parties in the past – of course none of the Gryffindors were there either. They would have to start being more accommodating if they ever wanted to hold a bash as large as the one Draco had in his third year for his birthday; it was the day after exams had finished too.

"Come on, let's get out of here, I know just the right spot where we could… learn a few things," Draco whispered to Astoria Greengrass, with a small kiss to the hollow of her ear. She giggled and nodded innocently.

He pulled on her hand and left his drink on a side table, twirling her along the room as they made their way to a corridor in the Slytherin Common Room. Draco saw Theo was chatting to a guy who he was sure had a penchant for the dark arts and had an internship at Borgin and Burkes, but he could've been wrong. As they passed, Theo grabbed hold of Draco's arm.

"Pansy's got the alcove and Andrew's in the dorms; you're gonna have to find base someplace else," he said with a wink and a sip of his fire whiskey. He pushed Draco away with a laugh.

"What did he say, Draco?"

"Looks like we're going to have to find someplace else," he told Astoria, with a lip-biting kiss.

They made their way out of the Slytherin Common Room through the stone entryway and into a nearby classroom. Draco spun Astoria around and pushed her against the wall, kissing her deeply.

"Ten points each from Slytherin," came a cool and haughty voice from the doorway.

Draco slammed his fist against the wall forming a dull ache in his hand. "For the love of Salazar, Granger," he turned, irritated.

"Earlier today, someone informed me that there would be a party in the Slytherin Common Room and as Head Girl, I must make sure that nothing gets out of hand," Hermione said stiffly. Draco couldn't help but smirk at the goody-two-shoes.

"Never took you for the stalking type; that's the sort of thing I would expect from Potter," he said with a laugh to Astoria who looked a little unimpressed with the situation. "Go back to the party, Tori, I'll see you in a bit." Astoria nodded and accepted the kiss from Draco, nipping his lip before giving Hermione a sheepish glance.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the display. "Great choice, Malfoy, she seems positively stimulating!" She said sarcastically. Draco slipped his hands into his pockets and surveyed Hermione with an odd smile on his face.

Hermione shuffled her feet, "what?"

Draco continued to look over her, waiting for her smug smile to disappear.

"Can't you speak?" she intoned. Draco could see her steely barrier slowly crumble like it so often had in the past; was this all it took? Nothing?

"I'm wondering why you got so much pleasure from ruining my night; surely I am of no interest to you."

"I'm wondering why you need my help," Hermione pulled herself back, trying to appear as arrogant as she had moments ago.

"I do?"

"I can only assume that's why you've been acting strangely with me."

"And you wanted to discuss this now?" he asked, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. He licked his lip and pinched his eyes at her. He could tell that he had affected her; she was silent just a beat too long, and it was the brush of a few curls of her hair that made him saunter forward.

"As I said, there is a party in the Slytherin Common Room that is unsupervised." "Surely, Granger, you have something else you could be getting up to other than waiting for me to satisfy your curiosity?"

Hermione blushed disconcertedly. Draco was now only a foot away from her, a distance that played in Hermione's mind. He was trying to provoke her in some way but if he truly wanted to play that game, then Hermione could too.

"Satisfy my curiosity? I doubt you could satisfy me," she whispered with a flutter of her lashes and a soft sigh escaping her lips. Draco's eyes narrowed minutely but glanced down at her parted lips, blinking slowly back up to look into her deep russet eyes.

He leaned in, and Hermione couldn't help but silently revel in the smell of his cologne. She could sense that he was biding his time, waiting for a sign to tell him that it was a trap or whether his own trap was working.

His hesitance meant for Hermione that she could slide forward and lean into him herself.

"Won't you tell me?" she whispered, her eyes darting feverishly between his.

"Come join the party," Draco offered, ignoring her question.

"Really?"

"Unwind a little, Granger; Merlin knows you need it."

"Will you tell me why you've been bothering me?"

"Bothering _you_? Really?" he chuckled, earning him a rosy blush from Hermione. "Perhaps I find your company amusing…"

"That's strange. I find your company to be rather a drag."

"Yet here you are – _bothering_ ," Draco said with a flutter of his hand.

"So you won't tell me why you need my help?"

"Not tonight, no. Perhaps soon or never," he admitted. Hermione quirked a brow and crossed over her arms. "Will you be coming to the party? There's a fire whiskey with your name on it," he purred.

"Not tonight. Maybe another time or most likely never," she parroted back then stepped aside, brushing past Draco. She stopped short of the door and turned. "Don't bother me again, Malfoy."

The last Draco saw of the prissy woman was the swish of her caramel curls turning the corner. He cursed as he felt the wave of the alcohol catching up to him. How did that spiral down so quickly? He thought Granger could take the banter and here she was offended that her bloody enemy wasn't telling her a secret.

"Women," he grumbled, taking his time to head back to Astoria who he imagined was pouting with Pansy by the fireplace.

* * *

 **Oh, I do love writing!  
Thank you so much for following and for the lovely reviews from you guys – each one I've read I performed a little dance of joy (consisting of booty shaking and moves heavily inspired by Chandler Bing) so thank you for writing such positive notes. In an instant I'm filled up with happiness and it means the world. **

**– Tooxi**


	10. Chapter 10

Over the next few days Hermione, more often than not, found herself thinking about Draco Malfoy. She was sure he was up to something and by Merlin and Dumbledore would she find out what.

Unfortunately, she also wanted nothing to do with the critter. In a complete moral imbalance, Hermione often found herself talking herself into and out of speaking to him again.

She was tempted to tell Harry and Ron about Malfoy's suspicious behaviour, but she decided against it unless she got solid, concrete evidence that the man was doing something with malicious intent. Actions speak louder than words, she would repeat to herself.

After the party the other night, Hermione wanted to keep an eye on him, to see if she could try and catch him in whatever his plan was, but he proved most troublesome to keep watch over. He always seemed to have late meal times or none at all, and she wondered if he might be in the Room of Requirement again.

Unlike before, he arrived to class on time and often before others. Hermione gathered that he was late to Potions on Mondays and Fridays only appearing on time on Wednesday's when he had a mid-week meeting with Professor McGonagall. She figured that out when she saw McGonagall shuffle Malfoy's report card on her desk when Hermione had spoken to her late into the lunch period about her Head girl duties.

Malfoy hadn't bothered her at all since his Party. He had barely glanced her way. Did she muck up her chances to find out what he was up to? And through complete natural design, curiosity was killing her attempts at ignoring him – hadn't she wanted him to leave her alone?

Whether her period was coming around soon or not, Hermione often found herself in two-minds over everything! Shower or bath? Toast or porridge? Left or right? Malfoy or homework? Malfoy or reading? Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy. Draco sodding Malfoy.

"Urgh!" she exclaimed, digging her quill into the parchment and ripping the page. Hermione was sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast that day, attempting to start her Transfiguration essay.

"This is a first…" she heard Ron say with a chuckle, only adding to her frustration.

"Can't think of what to write?" Ginny asked, also amused.

"I don't know what to do," Hermione ground out, her teeth gritted together. "I could easily go into about six different directions, but I can't decide which is best."

"Go with your gut," supplied Ginny.

"Don't do the essay," said Ron.

"Yes, that is quite constructive, guys," Hermione rubbed at her eyes. "I haven't been sleeping well recently," she yawned. "I think I'll go to the Hospital Wing and get a Dreamless Sleep potion."

"Might be a good idea, you're starting to get those bags under your eyes," declared Ron.

Hermione glared at her boyfriend who seemed to be entirely unaware of his mistake.

"Annnd a little cranky too," he eyed her accusingly.

"For the love of Merlin, Ron. You are sometimes remarkably tactless," observed Ginny. She shook her head in apology to Hermione.

"What? I'm telling the truth!"

"Thank you, Ronald," Hermione said tersely, as she gathered her things and briskly left her boyfriend and his sister to argue about the art of being a gentleman.

Hermione reached the atrium and stopped with the intention of going for a walk to get some fresh air, but the Hospital Wing was inside the castle. What about the Transfiguration essay she hadn't even started? Eventually, Neville spotted her and asked her to walk back to the Common Room with him, where she decided to take a nap.

* * *

It was coming up to Halloween, and the castle was now lavishly adorned with orange and black fixtures. There were pumpkins with crookedly carved faces on every other step, spidery webs stretching out across ceilings and the wind howled through the corridors. Hermione and the other Prefects had all decided against having the ghosts jump out at students this year.

Last week saw the first Quidditch game of the season – Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor – which only enhanced the jovial atmosphere. It almost felt like the usual Halloween that they were all used to before the war.

Harry had been sent a rather large package on the morning of the Thirty-First of October, carried by a white-faced owl with beautiful markings on his back. Surprisingly, it was from his Aunt Petunia who had written a stiffly written note:

 _As you have moved out, I see no need to keep your belongings still. I have sent you the last of your things with this bird. The man at the shop said he was "silent", which is more than what your awful white scruff was. And Gods – keep it away from our house._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Aunt Petunia_

Harry unwrapped the parcel and found a faded yellow blanket which when unravelled revealed three nonmatching socks and a crumpled letter from Ron back in 1992.

"This was the blanket my mother left me in," Harry marvelled as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger over the fabric. "Aunt Petunia must have wanted me to have it…"

"And the bird," Ginny commented as she fed the dark bird pieces of her pork sausage on her plate.

"Thanks, mate, for keeping my letters neat," Ron said, waving his note around.

"It seems like you don't like receiving insults either, Ronald," Hermione said airily, as she flicked through the Daily Prophet. Ron scowled having yet to apologise for saying Hermione was a cantankerous mess a couple of weeks back.

"Must have been one of the letters Dobby kept from me that summer. I haven't read this one. Merlin, your handwriting has changed!"

Ron took a glance at the letter and grinned at the wonky lines. "This is the one I wrote telling you about our plan to rescue you from your Aunt and Uncle's house!" he beamed as he read it. "I remember scheming the whole night before with Fred and George…" his smile faded slightly at the memory, "it was fun, no matter what mum yelled at us after."

Hermione felt a wave of pity for her boyfriend as she lowered the paper to give him a supportive rub on his knee under the table. He took her hand and smiled back at her.

There was a bark of laughter from the Slytherin table which drew away Hermione's eye, and she saw Malfoy standing and sniggering as he told his friends something raucously funny. Hermione saw students from other tables sneering at the group.

Malfoy tossed a couple of grapes into his mouth and made another "funny" comment, checking his watch while his lackeys chortled. Hermione noted how he seemed to be running on his own timetable as classes didn't start for another fifty minutes. He swiftly left his group to their own devices.

It was perhaps the first time Hermione noticed it happen but when he left the hall, two boys from Hufflepuff gave a rude gesture and spoke a sharp 'wanker' to the blond man. The Slytherin didn't respond, choosing to ignore and exit the Great Hall. The two boys roared with laughter and Hermione could read the distinct word that left the sandy-haired boy's lips: 'cunt'.

Hermione tore her eyes away and gave Ron a big hug. He apologised to her with a peck on her lips.

Later that evening, Hermione asked Harry if she could borrow the Marauder's Map for a while, which he handed over with no reservations when she told him she just wanted to study the magic placed on the parchment.

In actuality, Hermione was going to use it to track Malfoy, but of course, she wasn't going to let Harry know that. Think of the new obsession she would start!

It came to her that despite the Slytherin having not yet verbally asked for her help, he seemed to be working up to it. Or working up to an apology for what had happened in Malfoy Manor. Then again, this was Malfoy… his past actions would not be forgotten so readily.

Perhaps it was those two boys who had cursed him earlier that day that did it, but Hermione wanted to make sure that the Slytherin wasn't up to no good again. His soul might still be salvageable.

The next morning saw Hermione perusing the map in the Great Hall, studying its contents for the man's floating label and tiny feet. Harry and Ron were working on their homework due for the third period.

The previous night Hermione watched Malfoy's little tip-tapping feet mostly in the Slytherin Common Room or in the Library or just simply walking down the halls; albeit rather randomly but nothing particularly out of the ordinary either.

She found it strange that he was even talking to her since term had started when it had never been in either of their interests to pursue any sort of relationship with each other. They had both made that quite clear. It can't have had to do with Harry saving Malfoy and Goyle from the Fiendfyre only a few months ago, could it? She supposed he was just acting happier and that was why the change was so noticeable to her. His banter didn't seem as malicious as it used to – although that night that Hermione caught him in the classroom was an exception. She thought back to the conversation he had with Theo.

Malfoy was searching for something apparently close, yet he needed help to find it – her help.

It sounded like Theo was also interested in whatever it was Malfoy was looking for, but Malfoy didn't want him after it… or was it the help he wanted?

Hermione shook her head trying to remember. She bit a piece of toast, barely chewing it as she concentrated on the tiny moving feet on the Marauder's Map. So it was a surprise to her when she hadn't noticed the small pair of footprints that were making their way over to her during breakfast in the Great Hall.

"Hey Granger, can I sit there?"

Hermione nodded slowly only vaguely aware of the man who sat on the bench opposite her. Blinking a few times, Hermione pulled herself out of the reverie to look up at the person opposite her. She swallowed the toast in surprise, almost choking on the dry bread. Sitting in front of her was Theodore Nott. At the Gryffindor table. He was grinning at her too.

"Oh, Theodore…" she gulped, reaching for her water goblet. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Just initiating some inter-house unity," he shrugged, "and you can call me Theo, by the way."

"Oh, um. Yes," was all Hermione could reply to him.

"What's that?" he asked looking at the map still laid out in front of her. She covered it up quickly with her arms and pulled it away from the table, shoving it into her bag. He picked an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it seemingly uninterested in the map.

"Nothing, just some homework!" Hermione smiled nervously. "So … how was your summer?" she asked to divert his attention away from the map. He gave an amused sigh and licked his lips.

"Well I spent summer visiting my father in Azkaban and tried to look after my mother in St Mungo's," he said nonchalantly. Hermione blushed in embarrassment. Of course… she had forgotten that the Nott's were Death Eaters. She didn't quite know what to say to that because she didn't want to apologise for them and because now she was just more suspicious of Theo's actions.

"I actually came over here to ask if you'd help me with some Transfiguration homework and if you'd like to hang out sometime?"

"What?"

"You know, impart some wisdom so I can avoid McGonagall's harsh marking and also to get to know you better."

"I-I don't know," Hermione said, dumbfounded. "I'm already quite busy helping out Ron with his homework …"

"Ah, yeah … no worries then, Hermione," he shrugged, "Can I call you Hermione?" he asked after a pause. She nodded, still rather wide-eyed at the conversation. "So that's a "no" to the homework help but a yes to hanging out. Perfect! Well, I'll see you around, Hermione," he said smoothly before rising and flicking his apple core into the empty goblet across the table. Hermione extended her arm and tried to call out to Theo, but he was too far away now to hear.

Hermione shook her head and tried to clear it, still in a daze. Her eyes landed on Ginny who had undoubtedly heard the whole conversation and who was now staring at her with wide eyes. They stayed that way for a few seconds before the redhead shrugged.

"Well, he's definitely hotter than my brother. I wouldn't blame you," she pointed out before pursing her lips and exaggerating a shiver, "and I cannot believe I just said that." Hermione gave a weak laugh as Ginny continued where she had left off with her cereal.

* * *

"Hey, Drake!"

Draco acknowledged Theo's call as he entered the Great Hall fifteen minutes before the end of breakfast. He didn't stop, letting Theo make the extra effort to catch up with him as they made their way to the Slytherin table.

"I've got some news you'll find noteworthy," Theo said haughtily. Draco only raised his eyebrows a little, feigning interest. They sat next to Blaise who was just finishing off his scrambled eggs. Draco filled his plate with bacon, fried eggs, sausages and toast.

"Your story better enthral me because I'm only slightly pissed off this morning," Draco warned in a cold voice.

"Ooh, what had you waking up on the wrong side of the bed?" Blaise nudged his friend slightly only to receive a glare in return.

"It's proving to be more difficult to find."

"Do you even know what it looks like, this mysterious object or curse or whatever it is?" Theo asked sceptically, taking a piece of toast from Draco's plate.

"It hasn't helped," he replied in frustration. Realising he was left short of some toast he sneered, ripping it from Theo's teeth and biting down on the same piece.

"Well mate, I was just over there at the Gryffindor table and speaking to Mudblood Granger, and she was looking at –"

"Wait, hold up. You went over to Granger? For what?" Draco asked suspiciously, flicking the crust at Theo's face.

"Well, that's what I'm saying! She was looking at some sort of map of Hogwarts, and I shit you fucking not it reads people's locations. I saw it right in her hands! There were moving little feet and everything," Theo chortled in amazement, stealing a piece of bacon from Draco's plate.

"So, what? You just went over there and stood awkwardly, as she was eyeing this… map?" Draco asked with a scoff. "Sounds a little desperate if you ask me, Nott."

"Ha! Theo seemed to have it pretty easy from what I could tell," Blaise chimed in, raising his goblet to tip it to Theo before he took a long sip.

"She said yes too," Theo grinned. Draco choked on his pumpkin juice.

"What?" Draco and Blaise asked simultaneously.

"Well, I didn't give her an option to say "no", which has always worked out for me in the past. Just going to get another notch on my belt," Theo rested his arms behind his head smugly. "Do you think Weasley's claimed her yet? Not that he'd count for anything anyway."

Draco glared at his friend unamused and wondered how he would ever think that that was a "noteworthy" thing to know.

"So what was she looking at then? You seemed to get a lengthy glance at it," taunted Draco.

"Not really sure… she was looking at me a lot of the time…' winked Theo, tossing the rest of the bacon into his mouth.

Draco moved to stick his fork into his bacon and found his plate emptier than he expected. He smacked Theo's shoulder, "What are you? A food niffler? Piss off."

"I think she was looking at the first floor."

Draco chewed slowly on a slice of sausage, wondering if Granger might have seen him leave the Library. Was she watching him? Did it matter? To some extent it did. If she were to foil his plans, then she would know precisely when to do it. On the other hand, was she taking an interest in him? Maybe she would help him... she hadn't yet turned him in.

Although, she had no evidence that he was doing anything wrong.

Frankly, neither did he. There wasn't any evidence that he was doing anything remotely wrong because there is nothing to prove he'd done anything. He scowled at himself for taking so long on this hunt.

Or maybe she wasn't looking for him at all. Malfoy suddenly felt a sharp pang inside as he glared at Theo's smug face.

"Ah, Theo. It looks like you've pissed him off," Blaise exclaimed with a small chuckle. Theo looked at Draco's death stare and gave a faltering smirk.

"The competition too high for you, Drakey?"

"No," he growled, "you're just interfering."

"Me? What have I done?"

"Get involved that's what."

"There was nothing to get involved with; you two hate each other. Besides, I thought that's what you wanted, for me to distract her," Theo said with a disbelieving look towards Blaise.

"Well, the time has come. I need her on my side. I can't have you fucking everything up."

"So the bet is back on?"

"The easiest bet I'll win."

Draco stood up abruptly and searched the Gryffindor table and found his target. He pushed away from the bench between the two Slytherins and made his way to the double door entrance.

The bell rang not long after he had placed himself outside the entrance. Out came Theo and Blaise, Pansy, Astoria, Daphne and Goyle. Potter and Weaslebee came too, their heads almost knocking together like the dimwits that they are as they analysed each other's homework.

There! Her curly hair was a beacon in the crowd, but she was speaking with the Weaslette. Draco manoeuvred himself through the throng, receiving a few "accidental" kicks to his shin on the way to the two women.

"Granger," he called. Hermione turned around, eyes widening at seeing who had called her. Ginny stopped alongside Hermione, suspicious of Draco's intentions.

"Yes?"

"What class do you have next?"

Hermione glanced over to Ginny, "Transfiguration. Why?"

"Great. That's near where I'm heading. I need to ask you something about Arithmancy." He could tell that Granger didn't believe him, but she played along.

"I thought you were working on your essay alone," she hummed. Draco gave her a stern look, unamused. "Alright," she gave up. "I'll see you Later, Gin." She waved to her friend who still held a quizzical look on her face as she turned to head outside, probably to a Herbology lesson.

"I told you to stay away from me," Hermione whispered irritably. As they began walking up the steps.

"You're very hard to resist," he mocked. He could tell when Hermione's arms crossed that she was uncomfortable. "Don't frown, Granger. It doesn't suit you," he pointed out.

Hermione gave him a reproachful look, conscious that others were noticing their tiff. However, with the expression that Draco had on his face at that moment, it was completely understandable that all gave them a wide berth. A couple of stray students were coming down the corridor and thinking that it would make her more comfortable not to be seen together, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into a nearby alcove.

"Seriously, Malfoy! I'm starting to wonder what potion you've drunk," Hermione hissed at him as she pried his fingers from her arm. Draco blocked her from leaving the shade, effectively trapping her in the corner.

"Don't hang around Theodore Nott, okay?"

"I wasn't exactly planning on it, and I don't see why you'd be so concerned if I did. Although it does seem like my help is in hot pursuit at the moment."

"I just don't want any of my friends mixing with your kind."

"Urgh, well you're pathetic! I'm not tainting anyone with my dirty blood," she bit out. "I'm also quite certain the both of you are intent on making a fool out of me."

"You're too kind, Granger," Draco gave her a fake smile before continuing. "He's looking to bed you, and quite frankly that is too disturbing even to say let alone see it come to fruition." His face twisted as if he smelt a bad odour.

"Oh is that it? This "help" you're looking for?" Hermione used her fingers to air quote. "Our conversations are becoming more and more obtuse, Malfoy. Don't you worry, I won't be hanging around him," she said tersely, as she used her index finger to poke Draco back and out of her way. "Or you for that matter. Anyway, I'm with Ronald."

Draco rolled his eyes before he followed behind her.

"You know, Granger, I don't think that I particularly want to know anything about your relationship with the Weasel. I figure it would be close to shagging a ginger sloth with a brain as dull as dishwater."

"I'm surprised you know what dishwater is," Hermione scoffed, "and you don't have to follow me around like a lost puppy, Malfoy. I said I'd stay away from your friend, not that he was a large concern for me to begin with."

He quickened his steps so that he could turn around and face her while walking backwards along the hallway. Hermione kept her pace and didn't waver even though Draco wasn't letting her pass.

"Just trust me, Granger," he insisted.

Hermione's eyes narrowed at him as they both came to a stop. He watched her start to chew on her lip knowing that she wanted to say something. She looked like she decided against it.

"I suggest you head to class… you're late, and I doubt McGonagall would be happy to hear that you have been late to more than just Potions."

Draco narrowed his eyes back at her. She mustn't have known he had a free period.

Hermione pushed open the door to her class only to be immediately greeted by a screeching Peeves flinging blue powder over her entire person. Draco barked a laugh as he watched the whole scene unfold – the rest of the class howling hysterically at her too. She turned around, and Draco caught a glimpse of her brilliant azure face, and he couldn't contain the laugh he held in, expelling an obnoxious noise from his puffed out cheeks.

Hermione stomped her foot and brought her wand up, waving it around the classroom trying to aim at Peeves, but it only made her look that more ridiculous. "Peeves, you little conniving Poltergeist!" She spluttered.

"Wee Potty's friend is all blue, oh whatever shall she do! Catch me if you can, or next Peevesy will give you a cinnamon tan," Peeves cackled as he swooped around Hermione's head.

He dove one last time before pushing past Hermione and exiting the room, quickly swerving to avoid Draco as he soared through the corridor singing senseless songs. Draco turned to see Hermione glaring at him, the giggles of the class still very much audible. With a flick of her wand, the door between them slammed shut. It was possibly the best morning he had had in a long while.

* * *

 ***Waves* – Tooxi**


	11. Chapter 11

Draco was stilling chuckling to himself as he sat in his Charms lesson. The way she waved her wand erratically above her head trying to catch Peeves was perfect. Draco had to give a curt apology to the professor as he turned back to his blank parchment, still smiling and shaking his head in amusement.

Class resumed rather dully in the dark Autumn light. He made eye contact with Theo at the desk over whose own smirk made Malfoy's grin turn into a sneer, so he sent his meddlesome friend a non-verbal tongue-twisting hex. 'That'll teach him. The sly git,' he thought darkly.

He had to admit that coming back to Hogwarts was almost a step back in his education, even though he had yet to complete his N.E.W.T.S. Since the Dark Lord had trained him, spells just became much more straightforward to learn. The man had his flaws, but he taught rather well.

Draco knew how to defend himself perfectly, and several of Voldemort's own little tricks were tucked up nicely in his sleeve. He often ached to have that feeling of adrenaline rush through his veins again. It sometimes wasn't enough to pretend to be mildly better at spells than his classmates.

He assumed that this was learned behaviour rather than something he had in himself. There was only so much torture and gore and fear one could take before it hardened a person.

The night Granger had found him, and Theo in the classroom was a memory he brought back over and over because he wished he had shown her how far he had come. He hadn't expected her to bite back because he honestly thought he knew her.

It wasn't as if Draco was actively engaging in activities of the Dark Lord's teachings but if he cared to use any of the knowledge, he was quite confident that he bettered his peers. Even Granger with her frizzy hair and swollen, obnoxious brain.

Obnoxious or not, he did find her quite amusing. It was entertaining to bounce off her retorts, and he found her stubbornness quite admirable. She was a challenge, which he admitted she always had been but now he was facing it first-hand.

It had been a difficult summer after the War. His parent's trial meant they both received the Kiss, although his mother was allowed to stay at the manor. Draco's own involvement in the war had been revoked due to his "impressionable age and unfortunate parentage", although Potter did defend his actions as well. The summer had been hectic and demanding. His father had known that Voldemort had plans for him. However, he did not know that he also had plans for Draco after his death.

He felt that it was his duty to carry out the mission; for his own gain, of course.

He had thought that it would be quite simple to retrieve what Voldemort had instructed him to find. The Sigil of Lucifer it was called. A symbol rarely used but with exceptional significance to those who knew of it; not many.

Although Theo and Blaise knew that Draco was looking for something, they did not know precisely what, so since the Dark Lord's demise only Draco and, to his assumption, the portrait of Severus Snape knew of The Sigil of Lucifer. Of course, Draco didn't exactly know how to find it, just that Voldemort had told him Hogwarts was where it lay. He also didn't know what it looked like, so heavens be with him.

He had tried looking for any information on the actual Sigil over the summer and came up with none, forcing him to spend any available time that he could in the Hogwarts Library. He even took to wandering the corridors just in hope to gather inspiration or to just stumble on the piece. This was where it would get trickier.

He needed information on the Sigil, needed it so that he could understand its power, maybe even use it if he knew how to harness it. He supposed it would be a pendant on a necklace or a brooch, but he had no other clue as to where he could find it or what it was on.

The Dark Lord had spoken about the symbol to him a few times, how it gave one power beyond measure, that it was imperative that Draco retrieved it if he wanted protection from his enemies.

Draco didn't want to admit it at the time or even now as he thought about it but he was afraid. Afraid of the remaining Death Eaters who had gotten away that taunted him and his parents. Afraid of the people that surrounded him, by whose families and friends had perished at his and his family's hands. Afraid that his mind would play tricks on him as he saw his enemies dance in the shadows. Afraid of Voldemort coming back – that he wasn't truly gone at all. But he was especially afraid of being a disappointment to himself and his mum and dad.

His father was rotting in Azkaban, withering away like old sun-bleached paper. Draco felt great remorse for letting him down even though his father had done hateful things. He was his dad, for Merlin's sake; he couldn't stop loving him.

He needed to find the Sigil, and by Merlin, he was going to find it. It would give him what he wanted, more than anything else.

That was where the insufferable, bushy-haired Mudblood came in. He figured that if anyone knew where to find the Sigil, it would be Granger. She knew every book in Hogwarts, helped her two lackeys in every aspect of their school careers (including unofficial "projects"), and she could barely turn down a challenge. Her frizzy hair and abhorrent brain were surely going to be of use. There were, however, several bitterly wrong things with that conclusion.

Firstly, she and Draco were enemies to every degree. He was strong, intelligent, wealthy and a deeply influential Pureblood (even after his parent's damage, people respected him as a Malfoy amongst the Twenty-Eight, strange as that notion was to him he accepted it all the same), and Granger was a Mudblood. Of course, several hundred of his peers and the majority of the wizarding population still hated him, but the Malfoy's knew their business.

It was trying growing up knowing one way all your life and then finding out it was intrinsically a whole load of toad dung, but Granger's blood status still did very much irk him. However, it was becoming more blatantly obvious to him that it wasn't Precious Potter or Weaselbee who knew how to overcome Voldemort, so it had to be their brainy friend.

The Malfoy family had not been opposed to forming business with Muggles, far from it in fact. Draco knew that his family wouldn't be so wildly reputed in both the wizarding world and the muggle one if they hadn't established a base. One might question why the Malfoy's did not dabble in dark magic to form a reputable standing with muggles, but Malfoy's wanted to be prestigious by all accounts and not just through the use of a wand. They also stuck very close to the law, always dancing between the line of lawful and unlawful, using loopholes and connections to thrive in business.

He had bullied Granger relentlessly for being a Mudblood, and he didn't care to take any of it back. Of course, she was brilliant at performing magic and teeming with knowledge, but Draco didn't doubt that that was all from diligent studying. She lacked the purity and wizarding culture that came with wielding magic.

But could he fault her for that?

Secondly, Granger was a Gryffindor, through and through. Her kind heart and pride, lack of cunning and ambition, all would mean that she was unlikely to offer her help at all. Draco asking for her help would probably result in a) expulsion, b) Azkaban for the use of a Dark artefact, and c) the Dementor's Kiss for reaffirming Death Eater values. Most likely all three. The fourth option being Draco's escape attempt before any of those possibilities occurred.

Thirdly, the girl was part of the famous Golden Trio. Each as terrible an individual, let alone when put together. She wasn't likely going to tarnish her reputation even if she somehow felt the impulse to help Draco.

But it was her screams that broke his sleep at night. The memory of her lying on the polished dark wood floor of his parent's dining room, her blood trickling thickly down her arm. Her eyes red-rimmed and raw from crying, her voice barely a crackle when she whispered her pleas.

Draco's stomach involuntarily flipped as he remembered that terrible night. He recalled how he had thrown up after Dobby had apparated his classmates to safety, the high-pitched cackle of his aunt stinging his ears. Not moments later had the Dark Lord appeared, wand unsheathed and raised but only to whip pain into his followers at deciphering they had yet again failed him.

Guilt flooded him as he played over the scene in his head over and over again, wishing he had done something more. She didn't deserve it – none of them did.

Would she forgive him? A slow-burning sickening feeling was upsetting his stomach now as he imagined Granger's sharp-witted tongue no longer scorning him.

He enjoyed her laugh, too.

Draco thoughts drifted unwillingly to Theo tucking a stray hair of Granger's behind her ear and kissing her neck. He winced at the image, his mind spiralling darkly, as he imagined Theo's hand grabbing her arse.

When Greg nudged his side, he only just realised that Professor Flitwick was asking him a question.

"– Mr Malfoy? Mr Malfoy, if you do not respond, I will send you to the Headmistress's office!" squeaked Flitwick. Draco's eyes refocused onto the small frustrated man at the top of the classroom.

"Uh, the question, Professor?"

Flitwick sighed and shuffled his feet. "Precisely what is it about the Patronus charm that makes it more than just a defensive spell, and why ought we to learn it?"

Draco's eyebrows rose in surprise. Had he been so unaware of the lesson that he hadn't realised that Flitwick wanted them to learn such advanced magic? He also wondered if his professor was purposefully cruel to him. He hesitated before proceeding to answer the question.

"Well, a Patronus is used primarily to ward off Dementors and Lethifolds because although the charm embodies all that the soul-sucking creatures feed on, a Patronus has no soul, thus confounding the creatures. A Patronus is also used as a sort of … companion for those with depression – when cast correctly it is not only a corporeal representation of the casters happiest thoughts but also of a being that which the caster affiliates most with."

The class regarded Draco sceptically, some with disdain and others surprise. Though what Draco had said wasn't by any means suspicious half the room seemed to think his knowledge of advanced magic meant he'd slaughter the rest of what was left of their families. Under this scrutiny, Draco was considering doing just that if they didn't stop their glaring soon.

"I assume we are learning it to get over the war…" he mumbled, remembering the rest of the question before looking down at his blank parchment where his notes ought to have been.

"Why, yes," Flitwick nodded slowly, "good assessment, Mr Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin!"

"Professor, some of us have already learnt how to conjure a Patronus from Harry Potter a few years back," piped a girl from Hufflepuff. "He was very good at teaching us, and I believe he stopped hundreds of Dementors from sucking out his and Hermione Granger's souls in our third year!"

Draco gave a suffering sigh. He didn't know why Flitwick had picked on him to answer that question when his parent's sentence had been so widely published not that long ago. Now they were talking about precious Potter and how he was always there to save the day. He knew Potter had saved his convicted distant relative that night. Though their situations differed greatly, and he didn't particularly care about the man in the general sense, Draco felt bitter that he couldn't do anything about it; even if Black was a blood traitor – family is family, he supposed.

The class around him was chattering away excitedly, but it only made him feel sick. Draco shoved his parchment, quill and ink into his bag before standing to leave the classroom.

"Professor, may I go to the Hospital Wing?" Draco lied.

"Oh, yes, yes, of course. You do look a little peaky."

"Hey, Malfoy! You too chicken to cast a Patronus? Or do you want a goodnight kiss, just like your scummy parents?" Some boy behind him had shouted over the chatter. Draco paused from the steps down from the classroom's bench. The class had died down immediately, waiting for Malfoy's reaction.

Draco's teeth clenched as he gave pause for Flitwick to reprimand the boy. His fists clenched and his mouth turned down into a grimace when he realised that the small man would only cough quietly in the deafening silence. He blinked and bit hard on the inside of his cheek before composing his face into an emotionless glare and turned around. He stared at every face that was glowering back at him. His eyes finally rested briefly on Theo's before he turned to leave the classroom.

Draco heard Theo, who was still affected by the tongue-twisting hex he had hit him with at the beginning of the class, say: "Don't waggle your school ties, it's a very sexy thing to do!" It procured a great amount of laughter from his peers.

Yet, for Draco, it wasn't quite so funny.

* * *

By the end of the day, the entire school had heard about Hermione's incident with Peeves. Having been a significant participant in the Wizarding War, the fact obviously hadn't given her a Freedom Pass on being mocked and humiliated. Although she was happy it brought smiles to several faces that hadn't smiled for months, Hermione couldn't help but feel sour over the situation.

"It's not funny, Ronald!" Hermione stuck her nose in the air trying to hide her embarrassment, failing tremendously. She hadn't touched her dinner at all, and her cheeks were growing redder.

Ron spat out his pumpkin juice as laughter overcame him again for the fourth time since dinner had started.

"Harry! I cannot believe you're laughing at me too! I honestly do not see how any of what happened was even remotely funny," Hermione huffed, giving them both an evil glare.

She could feel the eyes of students on her and could hear all their sniggers.

"Oh, Hermione," Harry stifled a laugh, "why so blue?"

The Gryffindor's around them all burst into fresh laughter, and at this point Ron's face was red, his eyes squeezed shut with tears streaming down his cheeks, captured in silent glee. Ron snorted only making the rest of the table laugh harder – this time at Ron's expense.

Hermione couldn't help it. Ron's face was just too funny to ignore, a tearful grin of her own emerging from the emotional high. Ron finally opened his eyes, and he turned to Hermione to see that her face was red and wet and smiling just like his and as they both caught each other's eye their heads rolled back in even more laughter. Hermione could hardly breathe, and as Ron held her, they rocked back and forth. She felt as if she were drunk, her head in ecstasy because of how light it felt now.

Never had the Gryffindor table had so much fun than in that moment, their quarter of the room quickly becoming the loudest in the hall. It was wonderful.

As the noise dulled down slowly, Ron gained control of himself again and was able to wipe away his own tears before wiping away Hermione's tears though she was still so happy. He gave her a brief kiss on the lips, and the final notes of humour dimmed down to a soft lull gave her a warm and cosy feeling as she leant into Ron's side.

Hermione opened her eyes lazily only to meet the serious gaze of Draco Malfoy from across the room.

Her heart jumped, and her stomach turned, sobering her up quickly.

Hermione pulled away from Ron slowly, a quaint smile on her face as she adjusted her hair. She hastened a glance over to the blond man who was still staring at her.

She took another peek at him and was vaguely disappointed to find that he had turned away.

 _Disappointed_?


	12. Chapter 12

It was amazing how such a small event as being covered in cobalt blue powder could amass such energy and laughter lasting an entire week. Although Hermione's cheeks burned red, there was a liveliness in the castle that had long been lying dormant.

If anything, Hermione only received more attention because of it, many people wanting a picture beside her. She couldn't fathom why but she supposed the incident might have made her more approachable than before.

Parvati and Hermione would be studying in the library and even in the quiet of the dusty bookshelves did people walk past and say "Hello" to her. Parvati said it also had to do with the fact she was now paying more attention to her appearance, to which Hermione just waved a hand and told her how preposterous the notion was.

By the following Monday the buzz had died down, but it left a pleasant atmosphere behind. Hermione walked into Ancient Runes after an excellent weekend in Hogsmeade drinking butterbeer with her friends, a joyful smile on her face, lasting all through the lesson.

She met up with Harry and Ron coming out of the Great Hall having had a late breakfast for their free period, something Hermione was ready to chastise them for wasting study time over. The trio made their way down to Potions, where they met the rest of their class. Entering the classroom, they all started mumbling as they saw the new seating chart written in white chalk on the blackboard.

Hermione noted she would be sitting next to Theodore Nott this lesson. She hadn't seen much of him since last week when he approached her, for which she was thankful. If Malfoy were honest and genuine, then Theo would take the opportunity to try and woo her in some form. Hermione felt it best to avoid him, even without Malfoy's advice, but creeping past Theo was a difficult feat when you were last week's news story.

She slid into the seat next to him at the back of the classroom and received a broad grin as welcome.

"What are the chances, Hermione?" Theo winked at her.

"Mm, the universe is conspiring," she muttered.

They settled down and brought their books out, seeing that Slughorn was preparing a theory lesson.

"It looks like we won't be talking much this lesson," whispered Theo. Hermione just shrugged in response and started working on the questions written on the board. Through her peripheral, she could see Theo flicking through his wad of parchment for a fresh piece and scribble on it hastily. He placed it between them both, indicating that he meant for Hermione to read it. It read:

 _I was hoping to catch you in Hogsmeade, but you didn't go?_

Hermione stared briefly at the parchment. Malfoy seemed to have been telling the truth. No matter, it would've been rude of Hermione to ignore the man. She reached for the paper and penned a reply.

 _We were in the Hogs Head for most of the day._

She slid the parchment back to Theo and began working on the first sentence to the question on the board. Not long later, a new note appeared next to her. She sighed amusedly.

 _That's a real shame. Not many people go there, but I know the barkeep quite well. Bit of a grump sometimes but I find his love of goats quite charming._

Hermione smiled and wrote out her reply.

 _Me too._ _You're not a talker, are you Hermione?_

Theo smirked, his eyes twinkling as he caught hers. Hermione pointed towards the board with her quill and gave him an accusatory look, before mouthing "I'm trying to work. What are you doing?"

Theo quirked a brow and whispered huskily to her, "I'm working on how to ask you out."

Hermione couldn't help it. A blush crept up her cheeks. She pulled the paper towards her. While mulling over a reply, she spotted the blond who had caused this mess to begin with, look briefly in their direction. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she dipped her quill into the inkpot and wrote.

 _If you tell me something, I might be inclined to help you out with any homework._

She handed the note to Theo, to which he licked his lips and nodded for her to continue. Hermione wasn't daft; she knew that Theo was flirting with her, but clearly, he wasn't doing much else. Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, was definitely up to something; although they were friends.

 _What is Malfoy looking for?_

Theo took a glance at his friend, before rolling his eyes at Hermione.

 _I know – he's got that lost puppy look about him, doesn't he? I think he's searching for his dignity. He needs all the help he can get for that._

Hermione laughed heartily, to which many in the class turned to look at her, including Slughorn and Malfoy.

"Sorry! I just read an interesting … passage," she justified lamely. People turned back to their work, Theo's body was heaving in silent chuckles. Hermione elbowed him and shook her head, her cheeks tinged red. Malfoy's eyes lingered only a little bit longer than the rest.

 _I'm not sure, Hermione. He's trying to read a lot of books lately. Emphasis on the 'trying'. Perhaps he's looking for someone to read him a bedtime story?_

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand as her cheeks ached a little from her now more controlled silent laughter. She shook her head at Theo, hoping he would stop it before she disturbed the class again.

It was a false effort as Slughorn soon noticed their disturbance.

"Nott, Granger! I suggest you get back to work unless you would like to share your little joke with everyone…?"

"I apologise, Professor," said Theo, "Hermione and I were just discussing how easily someone could misread the ingredient list for this potion and accidentally add too generous an amount of powdered oak bark, essentially–"

"Reversing the effects of the potion," Hermione finished, catching on. Slughorn narrowed his eyes and referred to the textbook.

"Yes, you're both quite right. Take note everyone – adding five grams more of powdered oak bark would enhance the itching, not relieve it. Five points each for noticing how precise we have to be in this subject area."

Hermione and Theo shared a pleased look with each other. The class carried on as usual, quieting down. Hermione felt a small nudge on her side and saw that Theo had written another note.

 _That was a nice insert; you made us sound much more convincing. You'll be going to the game this weekend right? You'll cheer for me?_

Hermione thought quickly.

 _I don't want to be such a drag, Theo, but Ron and I are very much together, so I don't want you to have any expectations. I'll be at the game, cheering for both teams._

She handed the parchment for the final time to Theo who shrugged his shoulders and waved a hand to shoo away Ron, who sat not far away from them both.

 _You're only saying that because you find me too handsome to say 'yes'._

Hermione licked her lips and smiled with an exaggerated nod, appeasing Theo's ego. She brought her thumb and forefinger to her lips and kissed them like an Italian. It was the first time that she saw Theodore Nott genuinely blush.

* * *

 **Finally, December has come! I've only been playing Christmas tunes for the past two weeks... Anyone else? I hope you enjoy this short chapter – next one coming very soon.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Note: I added Chapter 12 2 minutes before Chapter 13 so check that one out first! Really they could've been one larger Chapter instead of two short ones... but it's December so I ho ho hope you enjoy this little update and didn't read in the wrong order.**

 **God that was awful.**

 **Carry on.**

 **\- Tooxi**

* * *

"What are you up to?"

Hermione turned her head up to see Ron peering over the desk to read over her shoulder.

"I'm working on my university applications," she replied.

"What for; universities should be lining up with their applications for you!" Ron gave Hermione a lopsided grin. She quite liked his smile and so nodded her head up for him to lean down and kiss her.

"Have you got a twitch or something?" he asked obliviously.

"No, I was asking for a kiss!"

"Oh!" Ron blushed but gave her a soft peck on the lips. Hermione smiled weakly, a little disenchanted.

"I'm just about finished to head to the Owlrey, will you join me?"

"Yeah, 'course," he beamed.

Minutes later, the duo were heading out the Portrait hole and through the castle, with thick envelopes in their hands. Ron started shuffling them, inspecting the addresses written neatly on the front.

"I don't know all of these," Ron stated.

"I applied to both Wizarding and Muggle universities."

"Oh, right. Well, I can guess where St Andrews and Cambridge University are but where's Harvard?"

Hermione hesitated. "It's in America."

"What?"

"North America, you know, the United States," Hermione chewed on her lip. They were outside now, crossing the courtyard and heading towards the covered bridge.

"Why are you applying there? It's so far away."

"It's only a short portkey and apparition away, Ron. It's hardly a far trip!"

"Well, it makes it difficult when you have to apply for a portkey to get in and out the country each time!"

"Well, we'll just have to schedule meetings."

"Schedule meetings? Hermione, I'm your boyfriend, not someone you can pencil in if you have the time! You'll be gone for what, a year–"

"–Four years." Hermione corrected.

"Four?! Blimey, Hermione. I'm going for the Auror job after Hogwarts, I won't be around during the week," he said exasperatedly, "or weekends, really."

"Ron, there will be time to see each other! Besides, I haven't even decided if that's where I'm going anyway, so calm down."

"Calm down? Just my girlfriend has decided to hop the pond to spend as little time with me as possible…"

They had reached the steps to the Owlery, both having fallen silent as they made their way up into the large stone coop. The soft flutters and cooing were a welcome sound to Hermione as she took a moment to think of what to say to Ron. She could sense his frustration without looking at him, hearing his exhalations and saddened scuffs of his steps.

Hermione approached a tawny owl who was preening itself and gently attached one application to its leg. The bird's head twisted this way and that, as Hermione flustered with the other envelopes, which she decided to send using multiple other owls so as not to overburden one.

The owl flew off, and Hermione chose another to send the American application to the Ministry's postal service.

"Ron, you know I want to spend time with you," Hermione sighed, turning to her boyfriend who was running his finger up and down a feather he had picked up. At first, he didn't say anything, only the soft thrums of the feather quickly sounding a rhythmic beat as he picked at it.

Hermione continued.

"I want to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life and education is a big part of that. I want to see if I can stretch my limits and going to the US might be the way to do that. It has nothing to do with me not wanting to see you, and I had hoped that you would've understood that."

Ron shuffled his feet. "I do know that it is important to you, 'Mione. It's just… I kind of had something planned," he scratched the back of his head, a bright blush coming to his cheeks.

"W-what did you have planned?"

"Something different," he replied cryptically.

"Why aren't you supporting me, Ronald?" Hermione asked, a little hurt at how selfish he was being.

"I am! I just thought you would've told me before you had filled out an application. I'll be stuck here with Harry and Ginny being all lovey-dovey, getting married and whatnot while you're halfway across the world."

"Harry and Ginny won't get married in the next four years, Ron! Ginny's seventeen." Ron gave her a look as if to say that wasn't the case. Hermione's mouth dropped. "Is Harry…?" she gasped as Ron gave a slight nod.

"The point is you won't be here."

"I haven't decided yet, Ron." Hermione finished tying the last letter to an owl and marched off towards the exit. "It's really not a big deal."

Ron grabbed her and spun her around. His blue eyes shone anxiously, and the sweet peppering of freckles on his cheek gave Ron a sad puppy-like face.

"Hermione, I love you."

"I know."

He ran his hands down her shoulders and smiled sweetly at her before pulling her into a hug. She felt him chuckle as he pulled back and ushered her to turn around.

"Your hair is unruly. You've got a feather and a fly stuck in your hair."

Hermione laughed and said her thanks as Ron removed the intruders from her curls.

"Let's go back inside. We have Defence soon."

* * *

 **See! Not long at all! (I meant between chapters but also this chapter is only like, 900 words. Shortest yet!)**


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione and Ron had sat next to each other in their DADA after their quarrel in the Owlrey. She noted that their argument hadn't properly resolved and that it was still an issue that they would have to revisit later. She focussed her attention on Professor Kenny, choosing to ignore the sighs from her boyfriend beside her.

Once the class had finished, Hermione walked down with Harry, Ron, and Parvati to their last period of the day: Potions. They had all accepted that Potions would bring a new partner each week and often it was okay but Hermione saw her name scrawled next to Pansy Parkinson's on the chalkboard and groaned.

"Hello Granger," Pansy said with a bitter smile, "I guess we've gone full circle with the seating arrangements. What. A. Joy."

Hermione hummed as she sat down, praying for another lesson on theory just like on Monday. Slughorn left his office and twirled his wand, so the dusters swiped themselves back and forth over the chalkboard, wiping away the student's names.

"Every Wednesday session until Christmas will be free-study for your upcoming exams in January," announced Slughorn. There was a collective groan as everyone brought out their books or a cauldron to practice for their preliminary exams.

Hermione pulled out her Potions textbook and also another she had picked up at the Library on case studies on complex potions. Despite the task, everyone was conversing and working together. Hermione instead thought this was the perfect opportunity to ignore the crass brunette beside her.

Engrossed in her work, Hermione found herself shuffling uncomfortably to the edge of her seat as a slight pressure against her side kept forcing her to move. Thinking, irritably that it was Pansy, she leaned into her to gently but firmly push her away out of her personal space. The pressure was still persistent against her side, so Hermione turned with a frustrated exclamation on the tip of her tongue when she realised it wasn't Pansy but Draco Malfoy who was leaning into her.

He seemed to be telling Pansy about a relatively simple potion, which Hermione knew was a ploy to flirt with the Slytherin snitch because she knew Pansy was by no means stupid. Perhaps ditsy and provocative but certainly not stupid; she was, after all, taking Advanced Potions to N.E.W.T level. He was still digging into her side.

"Malfoy?" She asked. No reply. "Malfoy?" Still no answer. _'For the love of Dumbledore,_ ' she thought restlessly.

She shuffled her stool to the side, intent on ignoring the two but Pansy's high, tinkling laugh broke her thoughts and made her stall in writing. This was starting to become really irritating now because Draco again was apparently unaware he was leaning into her.

She bit her lip, about to nudge Malfoy with her elbow when he moved off of her but only to whisper something in Pansy's ear. She silently watched as Pansy began to bite her lip, clearly enamoured by what the blond was telling her, making Hermione drop her own lip in aggressive defiance.

Draco inclined back and again pushed against her.

'That's it,' she thought, nastily.

Hermione reached out, placing her hands on the ex-Death Eater's back to keep his body at bay. She was surprised to find out that he felt well built, even though he wore his thick charcoal pullover. Surprised by the contact, Draco turned towards her with a dashing grin on his face, having enjoyed his flirtations with Pansy. He didn't look at all displaced by her touch and even placed his warm hand on the small of Hermione's back.

"Sorry, Granger," he said as if he weren't entirely out of character. Hermione felt the briefest rub of his thumb before he pulled away, winking at Pansy and moving back to sit next to Ron.

' _What in Merlin's name was that_ ,' Hermione thought with wide eyes. _'Was he…?_ ' She glanced at Pansy who was smiling devilishly, sucking the tip of her quill, unquestionably attracted to Draco and his attention.

Sneaking a glance behind her, Hermione saw Draco sit back next to Ron. Seeing that Harry was on the table next to them, Hermione decided to play her own little game. Getting up, she made her way over to Harry.

"Hey Harry, how are you getting along?"

Harry, who looked like he was nodding off instead of reading a chapter from Advanced Potion Making: Grade 7, raised his head groggily.

"Well, I've just finished reading the same sentence six times, so rather well, I'd say."

Hermione smiled and glanced quickly over to the neighbouring table.

"Harry, I really want to talk after class if that's all right?" she said loudly.

"Oh, yeah okay. What about?"

"Something quite important that I think you should know," she emphasised. Draco's head swivelled around as he stared intently at Hermione. ' _Ha!_ ' she thought, ' _let him chew on that._ '

Harry nodded, confused.

When the class ended, she held back with Harry and Ron and noted that Draco was hovering and packing slowly. Hermione smirked.

"What did you want to talk about, Hermione?" asked Harry.

"Not now, Harry. In private…" she indicated towards the Slytherin next to them, who licked his lips and made his way to the exit in a languid fashion.

Once he had no more excuse to hang about, Draco left the classroom none the wiser.

"So," Hermione chirped. "How come I had to hear from Ron that you are thinking of being with Ginny forever?"

Harry flushed and adjusted his glasses. "Not yet," he muttered. "Maybe in a few years… But yeah," Harry looked sheepishly at his friends.

"Oh, come here!" Ron banged into his best friend and gave him the tightest hug he could, clapping him on his back.

Hermione grinned watching her boys sharing a brotherly bond. She was happy for Harry that he felt that way, quite sure that Ginny was thinking along the same lines too. Honestly, Hermione thought it was a little early to marry, but Harry's parent's had been young.

"Can you imagine little redheads running around with your troublesome personality, Harry?" Hermione giggled as the three of them left the Potions classroom.

Ron gave Hermione a long, wistful look.

"Mm, what a nightmare," said Harry, scratching the back of his head.

* * *

 _ **Finger click**_

 ***Well I wish it could be Christmas everyday.  
When the kids start singing and the band begins to play.  
Oh I wish it could be Christmas everyday.  
So, let the bells ring out for Christmas.*  
**  
 **I think Dumbledore had an illustrious career with Wizzard.**


	15. Chapter 15

The week was moving by far too slowly to Draco's liking. He had spent the previous weekend in the library, furiously searching every book he could find that might hold some truth. His friends had all gone out to Hogsmeade and came back smelling of Firewhiskey and cigarettes.

Finally, it was quidditch season again and Draco's competitive nature longed to get back on his broom and forget about his worries; today was the first match for Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Draco thought at first that it would be the perfect opportunity for him to go searching for the Sigil whilst everyone was down by the pitch but Slughorn had insisted that he try out for the team again. Although he had moaned and groaned a little, he was thankful that Slughorn had suggested it because he truly felt alive again when he was on a broom.

So there Draco was, dressed in his green, black and silver uniform holding his Firebolt (he had upgraded but had the assurance from a family friend who worked at Quality Quidditch Supplies that there would be a new broom out next season).

Greg, Blaise, Astoria, Vaisey, Tracy Davis, Cassius Warrington and Draco were gathered round in a circle on the pitch discussing last-minute tactics. They had to wait a number of minutes for the Hufflepuff team to finish their team talk.

"Blaise, what _are_ you doing?" Draco asked askance. His friend had pulled out a pocket mirror and was currently preening himself.

"I don't think green suits me," commented Blaise, with a sigh. He was twisting the mirror this way and that. "Also, the scouts and the Daily Prophet are here, so I want to look my best."

Draco looked unsurely at his dark companion. He knew that Blaise was vain, a trait he had acquired from his mother.

"Try and be less, you know…"

Blaise winked at Draco.

Madam Hooch instructed for the captains of each team to shake hands to which Vaisley shook Terry Boot's yellow-gloved hand.

"On your marks, get set–" Madam Hooch brought the whistle to her lips and blew shrilly. Draco kicked off from the ground and soared high as he began his search for the Golden Snitch. Hearing the crowds roar and cheer in excitement brought an intense sense of freedom he hadn't felt in the longest time, and he revelled in it as he swooped this way and that.

It sun shone brightly but the air was damp and windy so Draco could feel the chill flow through his hair as if being on the ground was a dry, suffocating dessert and the sky the sea.

Within five minutes of play, Slytherin had scored twenty points, Astoria having taken the lead position as Chaser had scored the first goal.

Draco milled around the Hufflepuff goal posts and squinted hard to spot the Snitch. Blaise came dribbling into the scene having been passed the Quaffle by Warrington, who swerved underneath Astoria to avoid a bludger sent by the other team. Blaise took aim at the goal post, a nervous looking Ernie Macmillan holding position as Keeper for Hufflepuff.

Blaise threw the red ball over his shoulder, caught by Astoria who was metres above him and flung the Quaffle straight into the far hoop.

There was a loud cheer from the Slytherin team and Draco took a glance to the stands, noticing how three-fourths of the stadium were glumly looking over to the shouting crowd. Had it always been like this?

Hufflepuff scored several times, equalising with Slytherin, the atmosphere in the stadium picking up but the Slytherin team could feel the tension and hostility from the crowds.

Draco thought it quite pathetic as he sneered at the cheering crowds. Hufflepuff overtook Slytherin scoring their sixtieth point and he could tell that his team was losing heart. He could hear crude remarks floating louder over the din of the crowd but Draco did his best to ignore them.

Thirty points later and no Snitch, Draco decided to call Vaisey, their Keeper and Captain to call a timeout. Madam Hooch called a five-minute time-out. Draco zoomed towards his gathering group.

"They're absolutely smashing us," groaned Greg, thumping at the air with his fist.

"You need to keep attacking Zabini, Warrington," Vaisey growled, pointing at either team member. "You lot are ridiculous; I need you working out there."

Draco scowled at his captain. His criticisms were ineffectual and avoided the crux of their failings – their captain's lack of strategy.

"Goyle, Davis, try and hit Patil from the underside – she's key in passing the quaffle to Boot," Draco instructed. "Vaisey you need to keep your eye on Applebee, she's a killer on the right-hand hoop," Draco informed the man who leered back at him, annoyed that he was being slated. "Greengrass, I want you at all angles, the sun is against them now so use it to our advantage," Draco looked at Astoria who nodded firmly.

"Zabini, you need to pass to Tori like you did at the beginning – be sharp and know where she is flying. Warrington, do exactly what you're doing."

"What am I doing?" Warrington asked himself.

Madam Hooch whistled alerting the teams that the break was over.

Draco pulled back on his broom and swerved away, making laps around the stadium. Both Seekers had yet to spot the Snitch, so Draco often crossed paths with the Hufflepuff Seeker who happened to be the one who had called him a "cunt" in the Great Hall recently.

After several more minutes of gasps and cheers, Slytherin found themselves in the lead again by ten points. The wind was exceptionally bad now, blowing scarves and flags around tirelessly; Draco's hair often got in the way as he scanned the grounds.

Slytherin scored again and again despite the crowd numbers, only a quarter of the stadium erupted in applause. Draco was on the far end of the pitch and so when he heard the high-pitched shout of "SNITCH!" he bolted towards the stands where the golden glinting ball was indeed hovering metres above the silent crowd. The Hufflepuff Seeker was too far away, Draco was going to catch the tiny orb, he was but a few feet away with his arm outstretched…

Draco's fingers grazed the Snitch when suddenly he nose-dived straight into the crowd who screamed and separated as he came tumbling down onto the stand knocking into several people as he went.

There was an uproar as the Slytherin team came soaring over to where Draco lay in a heap, his ankle in scorching pain.

"Foul! FOUL," he heard Blaise scream.

"He was dragged down! Professor, this is a Foul!"

"The ruddy Gryffindors pulled him down, the filthy cheats!" Vaisey came swooping in and spitting at the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch called for order.

"Mr. Malfoy, can you get up?"

Draco disentangled himself from the three third years he had slammed into who were shocked to see an ex-Death Eater lying on top of them. He tried to stand but wobbled on his feet. A hand from behind held him in place.

"Hey! Get your hands off of him, Mudblood," Greg roared as he landed heavily on the stand. Draco turned and saw the determined, fierce gaze of Hermione Granger trained on Greg, and whose delicate hand was stabling Draco on the narrow bench he was standing on.

"I'm helping him," she bit out icily.

"No, you're not! I heard you! It was you who called out 'Snitch', you did it on purpose," Astoria accused as she floated next to Greg, "you wanted to hurt Draco."

"I certainly did not!"

Professor McGonagall came running through the stands, her glasses almost slipping off her slender nose, her peppered hair frizzing at the seams of her tight bun.

"Mister Finnegan," she spluttered. The Irish boy turned beet red as he stepped forward. "I am completely astounded by your total lack of civility and decorum; where is your sportsmanship?" she demanded of the boy. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and detention for a week, for disruption and endangerment to students. I hope you'll have learnt your lesson before the week is through."

McGonagall's stern eye and rolling tongue made quick work of Seamus as he looked solemnly down at his feet. He muttered a quick apology to Draco, who gave him a sardonic smile back.

Madam Hooch was in fierce discussion with both captains of Slytherin and Hufflepuff, trying to come up with a penalty decision.

Astoria leapt from her broom, her dark hair coming out of her ponytail as she made to help Draco. His arm met the cold air as Granger removed her hand from him.

"Sorry, Granger," said Astoria over Draco's shoulder. "I thought it was you who had pulled him down."

"No worries…" she muttered back. "You should go to the Hospital Wing; I think you broke your ankle," Hermione pointed out to Draco as an after-thought. Astoria looked gratefully at Hermione for her help.

Astoria and Greg escorted Draco down the stands to be seen by Madam Pomfrey.

* * *

"Why'd you yell out 'snitch', Hermione?" Ron moaned as the Slytherin team walked Draco out of the stands.

Hermione had honestly yelled out to alert the Slytherin that the snitch was there but admitting that would be really quite stupid. She watched on as the Greengrass girl and Goyle chaperoned Draco out of the stands.

"I don't know…" she replied dumbly, "the tension was so high and I didn't realise that Malfoy was so close by that he could hear me. I sort of… word vomited."

"Great, now I've got detention with McGonagall for a week," huffed Seamus, shooting Hermione a dirty glare.

"Well I hope you don't think I had anything to do with that," Hermione said affronted.

Seamus grunted and stalked out of the stands with Dean trailing behind.

"Hermione, you have to assess the situation before you go blathering to the other team! Slytherin could've gotten more points making it harder for Gryffindor in the next round," seethed Ron.

Hermione glanced at Harry who was tapping his temple in concentration, trying to assess the situation for the next matches. Ginny hadn't removed the hand she held over her mouth, only her eyes twitching back and forth.

"Oh, it's all just a bit of fun, isn't it?" Hermione asked rhetorically as she edged away from the irritated crowd. "This time just went a little… pear-shaped," she smiled desperately.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy, it is just a small fracture, if you would _please_ stop hopping around!"

"It hurts!"

"Well tough boys would be able to handle the pain."

Draco sneered at Madam Pomfrey for the jab at his ego, noting the sexist undertones. ' _Women_ ,' he thought irately.

Pomfrey grabbed his ankle and twisted it this way and that to see the extent of the damage the quidditch injury had incurred. Draco yelped in pain.

"I really think it's broken," he hissed, rolling his head to face the ceiling.

"Oh, Drake! Oh please don't hurt him," squealed Pansy Parkinson.

"Try not to move too much," guided Astoria.

"Ladies, please remove yourself from my ward, I assure you the boy will survive if only to break his foot _again_." The girls worried over Draco before falling back and out of the Hospital Wing. "Drink this," Pomfrey handed him a large bottle with a label reading 'Skele-grow'.

"I don't need my bones regrown!" Draco all but shrieked as he tossed the potion bottle behind him on the cot he was sitting on. "There must be a spell or something." His face contorted into sheer panic.

"Oh did I give you Skele-grow? I meant to give you this," Madam Pomfrey said a little too airily. She procured another much smaller vial from her frock that was filled with a purple liquid that sloshed around like custard.

This time the label read 'Broke-no-more', so Draco un-stoppered the vial and took a large gulp of the slimy potion.

There was a creak… and a crack… and a snap…

"FUCKING HELL," Draco roared out in pain.

"Language, Mr. Malfoy! I say, ten points from Slytherin," Madam Pomfrey chastised. She took the empty vial from his grip. "You were only supposed to take a spoonful, boy," she said haughtily.

"You don't say," Malfoy moaned as he rolled his foot, testing to see if it had truly been fixed. It had, which was a relief.

"Right, off you go."

Draco did not hesitate to leave the woman's company. Astoria, Pansy and Greg were waiting for him in the corridor.

"Oh, Draco!" Pansy pulled on his arm, yanking him out of Astoria's grasp. "I'm glad you're alright."

"It was just a broken ankle, Pans," he brushed off, walking with new confidence as he fell into stride. Astoria walked ahead of them with Greg, clearly not impressed with Pansy's pining.

"We need to get that little Leprechaun in his gut," said Greg.

"He was out of order!" seethed Astoria.

"Oh, he'll pay. And that Granger girl, how thick can you be!" Pansy laughed jarringly. "Or maybe she organised the whole thing, who knows? We think she's a goody-two-shoes with her virgin mouth and virgin–"

"She didn't mean it," said Astoria, twisting around to speak to Pansy head on.

"How would you know?"

"I saw it in her eyes. If anything she looked really concerned for you, Draco." Astoria tucked her long black hair behind her ear.

"That little Mudblood concerned for Draco?" scoffed Pansy, "Unlikely, not after what Bellatrix did to her."

Draco winced at the mention of his aunt and her torture of Granger. He shrugged off Pansy's iron grip on him and told her he could walk fine without her clinging like a sloth onto him. He shared a secret smile with Astoria.

* * *

Draco had decided to skip dinner more intent on finding information on the Sigil, despite having searched during lunch and through his free period. Potions had, unfortunately, interrupted the search. To top it off, he had lost his performance review after class, went back searching for it and couldn't find it. Not even an Accio, returned the blasted paper.

Pulling at his hair, Draco squeezed his eyes shut because he was very close to yelling in dismay when he remembered that Madam Pince was still mulling around. He wished her ears were as dusty as she looked but no, the witch had to have an impeccable hearing and a shrill voice.

With his history, he was aware that asking for permission to visit the Restricted Section would get him a one-way ticket on the Hogwarts Express back to London; a situation he wanted to avoid.

If Granger were with him or if he just had that map of Hogwarts…

Draco rubbed his temples but moved swiftly to another row of books.

Gazing at the old, faded spines, Draco noted that he had reached a section on the Sacred Twenty-Eight families of Wizarding Britain. He had studied the Malfoy tomes many a time and had been quizzed on them by his grandfather, Abraxas, who used to send objects flying at Draco whenever he got a question wrong. He touched the back of his head and felt the slight rise of a scar, caused by a tea tray.

"Draco Malfoy?"

Draco whipped around and saw a young boy holding a letter, clearly terrified of the big, bad Death Eater. The boy gulped as Draco leered down at him, taken aback by his silent approach. He took the letter out of the boy's shaking hand and watched as he ran off, his clumpy steps a lot more audible now.

The letter read:

 _Mr. Malfoy,_

 _Please come see me in my office._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _(Derwent Shimpling)_

"Sincerely?" Draco muttered, recoiling.

Once outside the Gargoyle guarding the Headmistress's office, Draco spoke the password: _Derwent Shimpling._ For the life of him, how that woman would ever find that ridiculous wizard funny was beyond him. His jokes were neither clever nor funny nor memorable. His mother would always turn off the radio when he came on to do his bit.

Draco knocked on the large door as he reached the top of the revolving staircase and waited for McGonagall to receive him.

"Take a seat, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco went to sit down in front of McGonagall's desk. The headmistress conjured a teapot, cup and saucer and offered the tea to him, to which he politely declined. She nodded and kept the cup for herself.

"Thank you for coming so promptly," nodded McGonagall, her lip quirking into a slight smile. "I trust you sought medical attention for your foot?"

Draco glanced down at his foot and wiggled it about. "Yeah. It's better now."

McGonagall nodded. "I have called you in here to discuss something which I do not have a record of."

Draco braced himself. "If it is about the report, I don't know where it is – I lost it."

"Quite alright, Mr. Malfoy. I received your report earlier. Miss Granger had recovered it for you," McGonagall said with a sad smile. Draco's eyes widened acutely before he controlled his features. Quidditch and now this…

"I would actually like to discuss with you your career prospects."

"My career prospects?" He asked with a bemused laugh. "Professor, not to be rude but I don't think you can help me." Draco could feel his temper rising, that he no longer trusted himself to not lash out bitterly. "No one can help me."

McGonagall observed the man in front of her. She noted the way his shoulders sank, how he crossed his arms and stared off over her shoulder.

"You have an aptitude in multiple subject areas; Potions, Arithmancy, Transfiguration, to name a few. You did give up subjects that you were particularly adept at which I could still refer you on."

"Well, I had to drop one for Muggle Studies…" Draco bit out. "Look, Professor, I'm not going to get a job – no one is going to hire me and I can effectively rule off any connections I once had."

"Oh? Why is that, Mr. Malfoy?"

He looked at her sardonically but his left arm twitched giving himself away.

"What happened to you, Draco, is not your fault nor does it define who you are." He flinched at her use of his given name – clearly, they were over the polite farce – and shuffled in his seat. "No matter your past, I can see that you are diligent enough to want to move past it all. Right, tell me… have you a thought about what path you would like to take?"

Draco sighed and shook his tired and throbbing head. Why must this insufferable conversation be happening? Couldn't he finish his schooling and live as a recluse somewhere in France?

"You must have some indication…? How about working within the medical profession? Creating antidotes and dispelling illnesses…Or perhaps you would prefer a more daring profession such as working with magical creatures?"

Draco smirked and shook his head.

"Draco, you must think about these things as it is important for your development and future life. You ought to accept help when it is given to you or one day have to face the fact that you have only yourself left."

Draco slumped a little further into his seat and gave the woman in front of him a stony glance.

"I don't want to work at the Ministry," he admitted. McGonagall nodded solemnly.

"What do you want to do, Draco?"

He sighed and looked deeply at his pale, clasped hands in his lap.

"I want to change."

"Change?"

"Professor, please may I be excused?" he asked, a pained expression on his face.

"You may," the headmistress said. As Draco rose from his seat, she lifted a piece of parchment and handed it to him. "Here is a list of professions I thought might be of interest to you."

Draco held the paper for a moment staring at his professor before he slipped it into his bag and muttered a "thank you." He turned and left the office as quickly as was deemed respectable.


	16. Chapter 16

**It's quarter to 4 in the morning and I realised I wouldn't be able to upload for a few days so I'm gonna have a tired ass day tomorrow! Hope you guys enjoy this little slice and I'll see you soon for chapter 17. – Tooxi P.S. currently listening to Ed Sheeran's Radio 1 Bloodstream Live session. Urgh, it's so gritty. I love that boy *shakes laptop*.**

* * *

The fire crackled lazily in the Common Room, a bright halo in a now dim room.

Hermione was twirling her wand with a dazed look, subconsciously conjuring a light breeze that made the parchment in front of her flicker and flutter in rhythmic beats.

If anyone were to ask her what was currently taking up space in her head her answer would be, "I cannot recall the book that I need to finish my Ancient Runes Essay."

However, in actuality, her thoughts resided in quiet turmoil with an emotional conversation she had had with Ron earlier that day.

Hermione sighed and whipped her wand with precision at her work, wrapping up all her school materials neatly into her shoulder bag. She leant her bag against the armchair she had been sitting on and quickly tied her hair into a plait.

In desperate need of a walk, despite her Head Girl and Prefect duties ending hours ago, Hermione took the risk. Not that many people would've stopped war heroine Hermione Granger from wandering after midnight.

Hermione strolled out of the Common Room through the portrait hole but then stopped. She had to pause because although she wanted to walk, she was conflicted in which direction to take.

"I find it helpful to go with my gut," said the Portrait of the Fat Lady behind her. Her plummy voice had startled Hermione who turned towards the painting and gave a weak smile.

"I don't know which way to go," she replied. The Fat Lady pursed her lips and adjusted her décolletage.

"Well, I'll tell you this, dear. I married four men in my lifetime." Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Yes, I know… I was a Modern, dear.

"My first husband I had met when I was fifteen. I loved him greatly – he was quiet but as immature as I was. However, that went out the window when I met my lover. Gorgeous man. Mhmm, divine, yes."

Hermione couldn't help but think she had stumbled across the Fat Lady's private journal. The portrait continued.

"We wanted to marry, but I couldn't get a divorce from my first husband as he was jealous and possessive. So, as first husbands often go, I turned him into a Cocker Spaniel. I found out he had been as loyal in our relationship as I was, so I gave him away to my chambermaid, who gave the wee dog to her son."

Hermione's eyes grew in shock.

"My parents – muggles – thought he had run off to London with my dressmaker, which was the story that I gave them. They had accepted this and so quickly found me an appropriately wealthy husband, who wanted me to rid myself of impurities and sin, telling me that my lover and I could not be friends.

"Oh what an awful bore! My husband was the type of man who went to bed early, had the same daily routine and talked endlessly about rocks. We divorced on the grounds that the marriage was not consummate – although he had only thought that because I had removed his memory of it.

"I told my parents that I wasn't going to conform to muggle laws any longer. I was twenty-one, twice divorced and scorned for taking a lover. I travelled and met a wonderful wizard, full of life and passion, and although I did not love him, I valued him greatly, even after him having passed a few weeks after our wedding…"

Hermione was at a loss for words.

"I am curious whether they hung him," the woman nodded thoughtfully, wincing as she remembered. "He was friendly with our King George and was accused of casting the Imperious curse on him. George's subjects thought that he was mentally unwell. I haven't seen him since" the Fat Lady mused, twirling her dress in her fingers.

Hermione stared, mouth completely agape.

"My last husband was twenty years my junior. I made sure that he took my last name. He was a simple catch, and we stayed together for a long, long time. That was until I met my lover from all those years back. Now he was a silver fox," the Fat Lady growled rambunctiously, "and wealthy to match; his standing in society had increased tenfold. He had his wife and three children with him, and we only shared a smile."

The Fat Lady gazed mournfully around the painting she was shut in.

"My last husband took me aside and told me he loved me more than I did him. We shared a tear over our memories, but he saw how I looked at my old lover, how my eyes had glistened, and how his had softened. How I was brought back to life with one small smile. He told me he wanted a child that I could not give him and so we parted ways as well. I was finally alone and finished."

"Do you regret it? The decisions you made," Hermione asked in a whisper. The Fat Lady contemplated for a moment.

"I would say this; I do not regret the adventures that I had or the knowledge that I received, but I do regret not following my lover and taking the unknown path. Banishment seems such a scary notion when you're young. I don't have a care in the world now. Although, I am merely a portrait hanging on a wall in Hogwarts Castle."

"We are controlled by consequences that we think will impact us and others. They say you should always go with your second love because you wouldn't have loved them if you fully loved the first. With my lover, I was unafraid to say no, unafraid to tell him my opinions whether they differed from his or not. I was afraid of my family and friends and acceptance. Afraid to love who I wanted. Silly, really; you end up with someone you don't truly love yourself. "

Hermione nodded, realising that the conversation was coming to a close. She looked at the three exits in front of her. Corridors to her left and right and ahead was the path to the Grand Staircase.

"Go with your gut, with your heart and don't forget you and you alone determine your happiness."

"I'm only choosing which way to go," Hermione muttered.

"Well for heaven's sake girl, choose quickly! I want to get forty winks at least before you get back," the Fat Lady replied sharply. Hermione smirked and with new determination, went forth towards the Grand Staircase, where she could keep making decisions on the directions she would take.

* * *

Hermione found herself sitting two above the false step in the secret passageway to the fourth floor. Although it was cold and sore to sit there, Hermione could think about the conversation she had with Ron earlier that day:

 _"_ _Harry did you know Hermione is going to America to study," voiced Ron as he paused his homework._

 _"_ _Is she?" Harry said distantly, trying to figure out why mooncalf dung would be the choice fertiliser for the Black Deadly Lady vine plant._

 _"_ _I'm right here," Hermione said tersely, "and I said that I might be going to America."_

 _"_ _For four years."_

 _"_ _For four years…" Harry repeated as he wrote down a sentence._

 _"_ _It's far too long to be that far away, Mione," said Ron gruffly._

 _"_ _It's not, Ronald! I thought we spoke about this?" she tutted, flicking through her papers._

 _"_ _Well, I've been thinking about it a lot more recently and decided that I'd quite like to see you more often than every few months."_

 _"_ _Are you afraid I'll forget you?"_

 _"_ _Well, yeah! I'm afraid you're going to go off and have a romp with some sod."_

 _"_ _Mm, yes," Harry said, his eyes glazing over as he wrote._

 _"_ _What? Is that what you think of me? That I'm some hussy, who'll jump into 'some sod's' bed?"_

 _"_ _No, no," he said with a scratch through his red hair. "I don't mean it like that – just that it might happen."_

 _"_ _Oh! Thank you, Ron. I am so glad you have this much faith in me, I almost don't deserve it."_

 _"_ _I want you here," he pleaded._

 _"_ _I want you to support me," she bit back._

 _"_ _Bollocks," Harry swore. "I'm such an idiot. Listen to this," Harry said, reading his essay out to his two friends. "I wrote: 'Mooncalf dung is the optimum fertiliser for the Black Deadly Lady as the fertilisation period will last for four years, allowing the plant to have a romp with those who deserve and support it through an inherently slow process of growth.'_

 _"_ _Harry–"_

 _"–_ _I don't even know what you're trying to say."_

 _Hermione shot Ron a sharp look. "Let me have a look for you, Harry," Hermione said, holding out her arm for her friend's homework._

 _"_ _Thanks, Hermione," said Harry, with a retiring yawn, "you're the best."_

 _"_ _Oh, definitely," Ron said bitterly._

 _"_ _Oh just go to bed, the both of you. I'll correct your homework."_

 _"_ _Anything to push me further away," scowled Ron. He had gathered his things roughly and marched off up the boys' stairwell._

Hermione gave a tearless sob and felt her control slipping. Now and then she felt the need to scream, exert some air or pressure out of her chest. What came out instead was a hard push of her breath and a pained expression on her face.

There was so much pressure inside of her, a tension that needed to come out. Being there for others was all well, and good, and Hermione strived to bring smiles back to faces, but when the time came for someone to ask her how she was handling her demons, she found it far too easy to resort to, "I'm fine" as an answer.

She didn't know what to do. She had to look for her parents, which of course was of the utmost importance, and at the same time, she wanted to explore the world and get lost in it.

She also had to think about how she would maintain her parent's house. It was currently still mortgaged, and Hermione had limited means as a nineteen-year-old. She would need to find a job as soon as possible or sell the house. Crookshanks was showing signs of ageing, and that was another emotional rollercoaster she'd rather avoid.

Then she had to think about how to rid her arm of the 'Mudblood' that was a daily nuisance; she couldn't very well bleed every day for the rest of her life.

Her N.E.W.T.S were coming up; the Press was publishing ridiculous claims about her; outside of Hogwarts her privacy was limited; arguments with Ron; Malfoy acting strangely; Harry was thinking of proposing to Ginny; Theo was flirting; Ron wasn't supporting her, and her nightmares were getting worse. Everything was just a little too quick for her liking.

It came to such a point that Hermione no longer shared any of her inner feelings bar the ones that were necessary. She felt lonely but wanted to be alone. Wanted people to fuss on her but also not to pity her. She supposed many students would show empathy instead of pity. Heck, there were students Hermione pitied. She couldn't empathise with them all. It was what made her feel lonely next to Ron.

She hated for feeling that way, but she did. Now she was resenting Ron's feelings and emotions? Hermione sobbed silently harder.

Why was she resenting his feelings? They were together; she should be supporting him and compromising. It was especially tricky with Fred gone. Maybe her going to the US would be putting more stress on him?

In these moments Hermione felt closer to Harry, but he went through so much more at the same time. Disturbing his recovery now would be a bad thing; he deserved peace. Consoling Harry and Ron was her concern now. They had said that they were there for her, that they would help her find her parents over the Christmas holidays.

Moreover, it wasn't like she was dead set on going to the US. She had to look for her parents first anyway, and being tied down by commitments would jeopardise the search.

Hermione found herself humming a song her mother had loved when Hermione's grandma had passed away. It was a happy song, although, Hermione had associated it with her mother being sad. She couldn't help but hum it now, her voice breaking from the effort.

Her fingers numbly fiddled with the fringes of her cardigan. Tears sprung to her eyes, and she pulled in her lips, her vision turning blurry. It became hard to continue the tune then so she rested her head against the bannister.

It took only a short while to contain herself; tears came one at a time now. When Hermione felt strong enough, she opened her eyes and stared blindly at the detailed carved railing of the staircase in front of her.

After a few minutes of not blinking Hermione focussed on the railing in front of her, her head too heavy to lift.

Every wooden post seemed to have this same floral pattern that swirled and twisted, quite like an Italian painting of sorts. It was a romantic design – especially for a castle situated in Scotland. Hermione lifted her finger and traced the soft twirls and round shapes. She started from the bottom and made her way up, finding the mantra quite calming.

Her finger reached the top of the last leaf where she found herself pointing to an irregularity in the woodwork. There was an arrangement there unlike the others. In fact, it was so unlike the others she wondered how anyone could so easily carve a design that hid amongst the curls.

It was triangular and pointed to the floor. Its two sides crossed, forming candy cane loops. In the middle was a Roman Numeral V. Perhaps it was the artist's sign off?

Hermione pressed her thumb against the pattern, for it fitted the print of her thumb, and looked at the impression it made on her skin.

Just then, the tapestry at the bottom of the staircase whipped forward as someone made their way through the concealed archway. Hermione gasped lightly in shock as she recognised the white-blond hair of Draco Malfoy shining wickedly in the candlelight.

Ought she to move? Leave? Not do a thing and wait for him to pass? Report him. No, she couldn't do that – she would get into trouble too. She watched him ruffle his hair before he took a glance upwards.

Draco had to do a double-take as he processed Hermione sitting halfway up the staircase. His face was stony, but it seemed he was unperturbed by the situation.

Out of complete and utter nervousness, Hermione lifted her hand slightly off of her lap and gave a small wave, instantly regretting it. She pulled her hand back, bit her lip and blushed. It's not like they were on regular speaking terms.

Whatever they were, it was the first time Hermione couldn't quite figure out where she stood with someone.

The wooden steps creaked as Draco made his way up the stairwell. He caught her eye and Hermione couldn't help but avert her own. He stopped below the false step, which rested between them, and slipped his hands into his trouser pockets.

"I cannot say this would be my first choice for comfortable seating, Granger," drawled Malfoy with the hint of a smirk, "but if this is your recommendation for a place to cry your heart out, I'll keep it in mind for any future lamentations." Hermione's eyes widened, wondering how obvious she must've been. "Your make-up," he pointed out.

Hermione flushed and quickly made her way to rub her cheeks and under her eyes before remembering she was a witch. With a quick non-verbal spell, her face was clean. She gave the man in front of her a weak and tentative smile.

"I'm caught between selfishness and selflessness and currently losing sleep trying to keep up with both of them," Hermione admitted.

"Mm, and now you're selfishly dragging me down your deep well of self-pity."

Hermione scoffed. "Right… You can leave, Malfoy. It wasn't my idea for you to hang around."

"What were you crying about?"

"Oh, now you're interested? I don't believe I was trying to get you to ask me anyth–"

"Granger, stop bullshitting. I'm probably the only one around here that you can talk to without feeling an ounce of guilt. Scoot over."

Hermione looked perplexedly up at him before moving to the side to allow him space to sit on the same step. He barely swayed when avoiding the trick step that Hermione imagined he had travelled down this secret passageway possibly more times than even she, Harry and Ron had. She looked over at him, and he raised an eyebrow at her expectantly.

"Well, um… I'm not sure what I want to do," Hermione finished with a factual tone.

"How terribly specific. I can see what your problem is," mused Malfoy, humouring her. Hermione almost nudged him with her elbow but stopped midway. She heard him smirk. "Go on, Granger, spill it; I want to make sure I'm not late for breakfast."

Hermione exhaled and chewed her lip. Deciding the Malfoy couldn't have seen her in a more compromising position than a make-up smeared face, she felt that telling him wouldn't be the end of the world.

"Ron's and my future interests might not be currently aligned," said Hermione, diplomatically.

Of course, she was a silly cow for putting such importance on her independence. She was in a relationship now; she had to think about what Ron wanted too.

"Ah, fear of abandonment," Malfoy noted calmly.

"What?" replied Hermione.

"Evidently, the boy doesn't want to be regarded as a third wheel to a perfectly functioning two-wheel bicycle. Potter will get the most fame and glory and attention, and you'll probably become Minister for Magic, and all little Weasley will be, as he has always been, is incapable of doing anything without either of your help."

"That's not true," Hermione said loyally. "Ron is talented in many areas! Besides, I don't think he feels that way," she admonished.

"No doubt, Weasley's trying to keep you close, so you don't run off with some hunky Quidditch player," Draco clucked his tongue as if he knew Ron inside and out.

"What makes you say that? For all you know, I could be the one wanting him to stay close." Hermione sniffed, finding her character attacked.

"You're not a small town witch, Granger," Draco leaned back and spread his arms out over the step above him. Hermione eyed him curiously.

"He's a jealous git too," he added, a challenging flicker his eye.

"He's not! He's perfectly sensible."

"Merlin, 'perfectly sensible?' That sounds, to me, like you two have 'perfectly sensible' sex. Although, I'm not surprised. He does lumber about, doesn't he?"

Hermione shuffled a little in her seat, which Draco caught with a devilish grin.

"Ron isn't the jealous type."

"Correct me if I'm wrong but didn't he have a schoolboy infatuation with Krum and then dropped him like a dog after the Yule Ball? And I'm pretty sure your relationship with Potter has always been a looming threat to the Weasel."

"You certainly have paid attention," Hermione said with a glare. She was painfully aware of his arm strewn behind her, and now that her back started to ache, she felt the need to rest it against something. Malfoy rubbed his chin, amused. "But you're wrong about his jealousy. Harry and I are friends, it's incredibly obvious, and you would have to be a buffoon not to see that."

"Mm," he hummed.

Hermione briefly wondered if that was what Malfoy saw. Did her and Harry's relationship seem romantic to other people? What an utterly ridiculous notion. "What is it?"

"I really shouldn't interfere," Draco coughed. Hermione had the succinct impression that Malfoy did, in fact, want to interfere. "But, uh, Weasley did use that Brown girl to get to you. A pretty shitty thing to do, if I'm honest – and I'm the Death Eater," he murmured.

"No, he didn't. We didn't know back then that we liked each other," Hermione told him.

"Well, then you best let Potter explain it to you; he knows."

"What does he know, exactly?" Hermione twisted towards him, her eyebrow arched. Draco had already been looking at her, which Hermione found peculiar. Maybe he was thinking of another insult about her hair.

"When Potter took up a knack for stalking me in our Sixth Year, I managed to get him off my tail because Weasley came thumping along the corridor like the troll he is, muttering extremities. He'd said, "She's bloody barmy, Harry. She only went and snogged McLaggen! I'll show her; have you seen Lavender?" Malfoy mimicked, thuggishly.

Hermione cocked her brow higher.

"Not a bad choice, Granger. McLaggen is a fairly competent flyer, although he's rather narcissistic."

"Oh, I know …" Hermione said with distaste. "Quite like you really, good at flying but awfully into your looks."

"And yet you still prefer me," he smirked.

"Only just," she admitted with a delicate chuckle. "Cormac had ambushed me, really. He sort of, sprung upon me, and I suppose Ron must have seen, but it was no more than a peck."

"Why are you still defending him? He tried to make you jealous instead of admitting he liked you."

"We're together now, what does it matter?"

"Right, if you like mind-games, go ahead. Weasley sounds like a swell guy," Draco shook his head. "Plus he can hardly keep up with you. I bet he doesn't even want any higher education."

"H-he doesn't," Hermione disclosed. "But that's hardly a dismissible quality in a man because, as I said, he's talented in many other ways!"

Draco sucked on his teeth, "Right."

"If anything, it's more that he doesn't want me to pursue my dreams. I want to – possibly, mind – to study in the US but apparently, that's too far for our relationship to stay a relationship."

"That wouldn't stop you," Draco said astutely.

"If you love someone, then you should support them if they want to further their skills and better their life, and if–" she paused. Fresh tears were forming, but she felt more impassioned than upset.

"–and if?" he nudged. Draco got the impression that Granger was going to say 'and if that doesn't suit him, then he can sod off', but who was he to assume what the woman wanted. He barely knew her.

She began shaking her head and wiping away stray tears from her cheeks. Draco didn't know what he sho. He had seen her cry many times before, found her pathetic and had laughed at her for it. He reached into his trouser pocket and extracted a handkerchief, which he passed over to the frizzy-haired girl beside him.

"Thanks," she said, dabbing the piece of cloth on her face. Unwilling tears kept pouring down, and Hermione tried her best not to ugly cry in front of her arch nemesis.

She was thankful also for when Draco decided to change the subject.

"You handed in my report card."

"It fell out your pocket in Potions," sniffed Hermione.

"Well… I avoided expulsion by an inch because of you."

"No worries..." she muttered, in thought. "Professor Duffeling seems to have a bit of vendetta against you."

"You read it?" Draco blanched, "that's private." Hermione shrugged in response. There was a moments pause as Draco assessed the girl's face. Concluding that Hermione wasn't looking down at him, his frown melted sadly from his face. "Yeah well, doesn't everybody."

"I'm not holding a grudge," she supplied.

"Oh, no, of course, you're not. You just think I'm suspicious and should constantly be policed," scoffed Draco.

"Well for a start, you are acting suspiciously," Hermione gestured around her. "You're up at a suspicious time of night, far away from the Slytherin dormitories and the Malfoy I know certainly wouldn't be consoling me."

Draco grimaced but quickly set aside the uneasiness he felt. What point was there to dwell on such things?

"Thank you," she added, quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Draco followed the movement, eventually turning his gaze back to her brown eyes. His lip quirked almost into a smile at her admission.

"Anytime, Granger," he said, and this time the smile broadened because he couldn't help it.

Hermione grinned back but shook her head, curls brushing lightly against her back. "I'll hold you to that, Malfoy."

"What are frenemies for?" He smirked, and with a gentle touch, his hand grazed her back, right by her ribs. Hermione felt an electric jolt run up her body, and by the stiffening of her back, he retracted his arm completely. Hermione blushed because she wasn't usually that ticklish.

"Come, I need your help with something," he said abruptly. Hermione only just recovered from the intense sensitivity she felt that her expression must have shown utter confusion because he corrected himself. "Will you come with me?"

"Um…" she gazed into his eyes and licked her lip, "to do what, exactly?"

He smirked and made a show of mulling over his answer. "You're going to help me with a project."

Like a lounging cat whose ears prick at the slightest of sounds, Hermione's interests piqued. Her eyes glowed, with fresh wetness from her tears, as if she would get to see the trouble he was likely stirring and to uncover the mysteries he kept so well in check.

He needed her help, and finally, he was asking for it. He wasn't by any means unintelligent; he was far more intelligent than his general disinterest suggested. Hermione happened to know that he had received O's in all of his O.W.L's bar one. He received an Exceeds Expectations in Ancient Runes. So, of course, it was especially intriguing to hear that he was asking for her help.

"Struggling?" she asked a little haughtily. Draco narrowed his eyes at her, irked by her words. He gritted his teeth.

"Well, currently I have your mind as my arsenal, which is a brilliant opportunity for you to be smug and put me on the spot. I know you'd love to do that to me."

Hermione tried to shrug indifferently, but with all the intention of putting him on the spot. "Malfoy, you're awfully perceptive, I'm sure if you truly tried you could do it on your own," she poked.

Draco smirked, stood up and made his way up the steps. "Goodnight, Granger."

Hermione wheeled around and stared at his retreating form. It was only for a brief second – but it was there all the same – that she felt excited, but worry immediately crowded her mind. Would she be safe?

Hermione shot up and climbed the steps two at a time to reach the Slytherin at the top, who had slowed down and turned to watch her ascent.

"You're smart, so I can only imagine what kind of puzzle has gotten you wound up, and asking for my help."

"I just need to ask you one thing, and I hope that you can help me with it, Granger. It's more about what you know than what you can solve."

Hermione pursed her lips as they made their way down a corridor to the Grand Staircase, and down towards one of Hermione's most treasured places.

"You're taking me to the Library?" Hermione questioned, a little disbelieving, "is this why you asked me how many books I've read?"

Draco glanced out of the corner of his eye at her as they walked. "Am I that transparent?" he murmured as they got closer to the entrance. "Hold on, Pince-y might be reading herself a bedtime story."

Hermione scoffed but followed closely behind. She tapped Draco's arm and pointed to the flickering light that lit the underside of a door next to the Library. "She's in her room; we'll have to be quiet," she whispered.

Draco nodded, expertly twisting the door handle and edging his way inside the Library with nothing but the tiniest creak. Hermione slipped inside after him and had to hurry because she saw his dark, slender frame turn a corner along one of the bookshelves. She was curious yet apprehensive; what if it was a sordid trap? She pulled out her wand, just in case.

She found him at his usual study table, near the bay windows, not too far from her usual spot. He was leaning against the desk with his arms and ankles crossed.

"Afraid the Death Eater is going to jump you?" he muttered, nodding at the wand in her hand.

Hermione clenched her teeth and uttered a quick Lumos, trying to act braver than she felt. The light glowed eerily, illuminating their faces. However, it made Hermione feel more secure to have it there.

"So what are you looking for, Mr Malfoy? Cruel Curses and Callous Charms? Or perhaps The Dark Arts and Its Darker History, or maybe even Discrimination Methods for Dirty Mudbloods and Horrific Half-breeds? I believe those would be in the Restricted section," Hermione jested, hoping that those books didn't exist.

Draco shrugged, an eye on her twiddling fingers nervously gripping her slender wand. "I was hoping that you would be able to tell me, Granger."

Hermione's brows shot up though she quickly schooled her expression. "If it's illegal, I can't help you," she said, taking a long look around the Library, "and I'm guessing the books won't be of much help either."

Draco licked his lips, his thoughts mulling over whether he should even tell the woman what he was looking for or call it quits. He knew he had to be careful, but she was too bright not to see anything amiss.

"I'm doing some research and, as far as I know, that's not illegal," he said tensely.

"It is if you have intent."

"Well, it would be pretty fucking stupid of me to let the brightest witch know my naughty plans, wouldn't it?"

"Well, I never said you were that clever…" Hermione said with a cheeky smile. She turned to inspect the bookshelves near where they stood: texts on Transfiguration. "So, Malfoy, what is it that begs my help?"

There was no immediate reply, so Hermione looked back to see Draco staring out the window onto the grounds of Hogwarts. She could see the bright reflection of his blond hair and his eyes cast in shadow, but Hermione also caught the grave expression marring his firm face.

Hermione waited a small while, ultimately too curious to hang around. She walked over to the man and placed her hand on his shoulder, which she immediately removed when he whipped his head towards her and looked daringly into her eyes.

"You weren't responding," she supplied.

There was a war brewing in his grey eyes, and for a moment, as if the past half an hour hadn't even happened, he frightened her. Draco wasn't stupid, he could be utterly brilliant at times, although a right git at others. She could tell that he was making a difficult decision, something Hermione felt was more important than the actual secret.

Draco rubbed his chin, again momentarily lost in thought as he imagined Hermione avidly telling McGonagall of all of his crimes. It was highly likely that she would go to their professor and send him to Azkaban. Perhaps he would sit in the cell next to his father? What a foolish idea; he hated Theo for stepping up the pressure.

"What do you know of the Sigillum Diabolus?"

"… The Devil's Sigil? You're looking for the Devil's Sigil?" she probed sternly, a little perplexed.

"The Sigil of Lucifer is its English translation," Draco muttered, his eyes flashing with an intensity and a menacing gleam that Hermione hadn't seen before.

"I thought the wizarding world didn't have a devil?" she asked.

"We don't; Lucifer was a wizard."

"Oh … Well, I haven't read anything about him," she admitted. "How do you know him?"

Draco's lip quirked. "I was told."

Hermione withdrew her eyes with a small nod. Her mind was travelling full speed as she mulled over the information. What exactly was Draco asking of her and why was he even searching for something that sounded so malicious. Perhaps this Lucifer fellow wasn't a real devil, although he could quite have easily have been the birth of the name.

"Why are looking for this – Sigil of Lucifer? What is it?"

"My guess is; it's a sigil," Draco offered dryly.

"I cannot fathom why you would think I would help you, Malfoy," Hermione crossed her arms. "I presume you also don't want me knowing why you want it."

Draco smirked and looked over her head. His jaw tensed yet his eyes had that strange glint again, reminding Hermione that Draco was a member of one of the most profound and oldest wizarding families in the world. His aristocratic features made him seem god-like in the dim light. For a split moment, she envied him.

"You see the thing is, Granger; you are not only clever, but you also have an insufferable need to know everything, whether it's your business or not." Hermione scowled, about to argue with the man, but held her tongue when he continued. "I couldn't tell you enough about this Sigil that would satisfy your bushy hair. Yet, I believe I have told you enough to capture your interest. You could help me and find out or find out on your own. However, you're an open book, Granger; when you do find out who this Lucifer chap is, you'll soon come to me asking why I want his Sigil."

"You're terribly confident that I won't turn you in," Hermione said warily. She had to admit that Malfoy was correct. She did want to know what this Sigil was all about and why he needed it. She hated that he was correct but why on earth did he ask her to help him if he wanted it kept secret?

Draco shifted his gaze back down to flick between her dark eyes. He leaned down to whisper in Hermione's ear. She could practically feel the smile on his lips and the excitement on his warm breath.

"Isn't it time for an adventure of your own?"

He pulled back, leaving a trail of soft goosebumps on Hermione's neck, and strode down the aisle Hermione had been in mere minutes ago. She could feel a blush creep onto her face but she pushed the feeling deep down, somewhere she wouldn't have to look into anytime soon.

Twirling around to follow him, Hermione quickly kept up the pace as he swerved through the maze of shelves and desks, heading deeper into the Library.

"So, who told you about this Sigil?" She called.

"It's irrelevant," he replied without looking over his shoulder, his long stride encouraging Hermione to jog behind him.

"Well, what do you know that you can tell me?"

"He is an ancestor of mine and used to be best pals with Salazar Slytherin," Draco said indifferently. He finally stopped in front of a tall bookcase in a dark aisle and summoned the ladder, which clattered and creaked as it rolled over to where Draco stood, staring up at the utmost shelf.

"A suspicious man from a suspicious family," Hermione noted airily.

"I'm also distantly related to the Potters if you must know. So please, pick and scrutinise my redeeming qualities all you like."

"And the Weasleys."

"Unfortunately," he murmured. Draco was at the top of the ladder and picking out a thick tome from the shelf. The book was somewhat dusty, and its edges were peeling away. The leather was a dark shade of green and an emblem of a coat of arms on the cover; a large silver-embossed 'M' flanked by dragons and topped with two serpents.

Hermione eyed Draco carefully as he made his way back to the ground, leaping at the last few steps to arrive right beside her.

"What's this?"

"This is one of the volumes written on the Malfoy family," Draco smirked as he peeled back the silky pages.

"One of?"

"We have seven books recording our history, many of which have forwards by great wizards and witches. I needed to memorise Merlin's excerpt in Volume II, which read: 'I am renowned for my charm, wit and sharp intellect. However, I could not procure such favourable skills without having dined so oft with the Malfoy family. They were my muse when I formed the Order of Merlin. I cherish them dearly.'

Hermione scoffed. "There is no way that your prejudiced family could ever have influenced the most prestigious awarding body in the wizarding world that advocates for the protection of Muggle Rights!"

"We have his memory stored in the Manor; his words are as correct as I just spoke them."

"Memories can be altered," Hermione jibed.

"They can't," Draco sung.

"Yes, they can…" she corrected, copying his sing-song tone.

"They can be edited not faked, if that's what you're trying to say," Draco quirked his brow at her.

"I doubt that is the case."

"Whatever keeps you happy, Granger."

Draco scanned the book, making sure not to ruin the frail pages by turning them gently. He seemed to have found the passage he was looking for and shuffled the heavy volume in his arm so that Hermione could read where he was pointing to in the text. To Hermione's surprise it was written in French.

'Unbeknownst to the Muggle community, the Battle of Hastings of 1066AD was primarily fought by English and French wizards. Muggles did contribute significantly to the efforts. Nevertheless, they were not entirely necessary, and as such, there was a sizeable non-magical casualty list.

The Malfoy Family Arrive in Britain – Relations i) Salazar Slytherin

Despite not being directly involved in the battle, Armand Malfoy played a large part in the Norman victory over the English by bringing his pharmaceutical expertise to England. Malfoy Apothecaries was established first in Sussex, then brought to London, where Armand first met the established Salazar Slytherin (see Chapter twenty-two).

Draco pointed to a section further down the page, which referred to Lucifer.

'It was in the company of Salazar that Malfoy met Lucifer, a travelling trickster of the light. Lucifer would use light to create illusions to entertain muggles, which fascinated Armand. Armand, Salazar and Lucifer talked oft of purity and wizarding superiority, particularly after Muggle anti-magic practices took many comrades to the burning stake and others tied down to drown in rivers.

Years later, Armand's daughter, Victoria (of twelve years), was courted by Lucifer and bore a child but as the trickster was a traveller, he left Victoria with the child and the Malfoy name.

Armand was furious and pursued Lucifer, finding that the wizard had left many Muggle women with his children. Armand swore to blood purity and cast away the Lucifer name from the Malfoy family tree. Lucifer was said to be playing tricks wherever he went, often using his light magic to deceive farmers into thinking the sun had risen, yet fire scorched their means.

Armand, at the age of one-hundred and thirty-two, met for the last time with Lucifer in a Muggle town in northern Italy. He was too weak to confront Lucifer who he claims had not aged like Armand had, and later travelled back to the Manor house (duly named Malfoy Manor) in Wiltshire to rest for one last evening. Lucifer is said to have associated himself with several Muggle poets but he has not been sighted since Armand passed away peacefully.'

Hermione finished the passage. Her mind was a little tired from reading it in French. The next section on the page spoke of Armand Malfoy's relations with King William I of England and Hermione was eager to learn more.

"He sounds lovely…" Hermione glanced over at Draco who was regarding her curiously.

"You know French?"

"I learnt it at school," she said, noticing that his brows only furrowed further. Hermione realised that he might not know that Muggleborns had to go to school before they found out they were magical. "My muggle school, that is… the one I went to before I came to Hogwarts. I also used to go skiing with my parents in France."

"Does Potter know French too?" queried Malfoy.

Hermione thought for a moment but shook her head, "I don't think he does. Although languages are a compulsory subject." Draco nodded thoughtfully but turned back to the book he was holding.

"I don't know what happened to Victoria. I believe she didn't stay on the family tree for long, neither did her child," he murmured. "This is all I can find on Lucifer."

"This is just speculation, but if he was friendly with muggle poets then he might have been friends with Dante Alighieri and John Milton… but then that wouldn't make sense because they were alive in different centuries. I don't know of anyone not ageing other than Nicholas Flamel." Hermione saw the excitement in Draco's eyes, how they lit up as she spoke. "There isn't anything here about a Sigil. How do you know he has one?"

"Someone told me about it," Draco pushed aside yet again, more eager to see Hermione piece together a trail.

"Who did?"

"I told you, Granger, it doesn't matter," he said, impatiently.

"Fine," Hermione bit back. The Library was starting to grow lighter with a dark blue sheen illuminating their faces now – it looked like it would be dawn soon. Hermione cursed at how late she had been out, now only realising how tired she felt. "I'm tired, Malfoy. Maybe we can look into this further tomorrow at a normal time…" she yawned. Breakfast would be soon.

"So you're going to help me?" he urged.

Hermione regarded him slowly before reaching for the text in his arms. He handed it to her and watched as she inspected the cover, which read The Sacred Pureblood Twenty-Eight – The Malfoy Family in a silver script embossed above the coat of arms.

"I can't take this book out," she said, handing it back to Draco dismissively. Draco's eyes shone in surprise, his brows raised.

"And why ever not?"

"I'd like to read more, but I can't exactly be seen reading or get caught with that book. It's not exactly every-day sort of reading. Madam Pince will catch on. People will think I'm researching you, and your notoriety will only increase, and your little secret will be out in no time," Hermione explained as if it were obvious.

"Why can't you just read it here?"

"I have other engagements, Malfoy," she replied primly. "You'll need to take this book out for me so I can read it when we next meet." Draco grinned salaciously, worthy of the devil himself.

"I have a free period after lunch tomorrow?" Draco suggested. Hermione shook her head.

"My free period is Friday. I think it's best outside of class hours," Hermione said sleepily. "We'll figure it out tomorrow."

Draco agreed and extended his arm out offering Hermione to take the lead down the aisle.

"I better have invested wisely, Granger," murmured Draco as they walked.

Hermione chuckled and glanced over her shoulder with a playful smile on her rosy lips. "Brightest Witch of My Age, remember?" She winked delicately, turning back with a long swish of her brown curls.

Draco knew she was tired because she had been swaying and yawing through a portion of their evening together, and he too had taken the occasional tired blink. In a dysfunctional daze, he wondered whether Granger knew that her sultry smile and a flirtatious wink would give him an erection.

By the dim light of dawn, Draco found his eyes roaming to the slender waist and sashaying hips of Granger – frizzy-haired, shrill, Muggleborn Granger – as they made their way to the Library door to walk in separate directions back to bed.

* * *

 **Girl, you know I want your love... come on, follow my lead... I'm in love with your body... Oh I, Oh I, Oh I, Oh I... I'm in love with the shape of you.**

 **I still need to pack. URGH.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hello again! Thank you for the follows and reviews! It's heartwarming to receive such lovely notes from you :) Now I'm only here to give you the next chapter but also to let those of you who might not be aware of a dramione WiP, which I absolutely adore, called** The Right Thing To Do _by lovesbitca8._ ** _Go check it out! Now! (I mean it!)_**

 **And onto Chapter 17 we go...**

* * *

Hermione awoke with a start, her heart thrumming heavily in her chest. With a jolt, she flung back her curtains and shocked her fellow dorm mates with the abruptness.

"Hermione!" exclaimed Parvati who started to snigger. "Your… your hair!"

The other girls gathered around her and started to laugh at the state of Hermione's hair. Hermione patted her head and felt a bushiness that resembled a bird's nest – quite the comparison as she found some stray down feathers stuffed in there too. She groaned and made her way to the en-suite to fix her daily nightmare.

Once dressed, Parvati and Hermione made their way down to breakfast, albeit a little groggily as Hermione remembered her late, or early depending on how you saw it, night.

"How is it going with Theo?" asked Parvati a little airily.

"Theo?" Hermione repeated. "Uh, I supposed he's alright… I don't speak to him much."

"I saw you were exchanging notes in Potions last week, Hermione Granger, you cannot tell me that you weren't flirting with Theo Nott," her friend said saucily with a little shake of her hips.

"I was not flirting! He was! I'm really not sure what has gotten into him, Ron and I are perfectly happy, so he has no reason to interfere with me." Hermione huffed and flicked her hair. She failed to mention that she had a mini breakdown the previous night about the 'perfectly happy' relationship she was in with Ron, but why would she make her morning worse?

"Well, he's handsome, so I wouldn't blame you…"

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" muttered Hermione. "You should date him!"

"Me? Oh no, no. He's a Death Eater," Parvati waved her hand off as if swatting away a hovering fly.

"How can you encourage my relationship with him when you're prejudiced?"

"As I said, he's hot," Parvati intoned.

They heard a shout from behind them and turned to see Ginny skipping, down the steps. "Thanks for waiting, you two!"

"We thought you had gone down with Harry," excused Hermione.

"No, I woke up late. Homework has been eating my arse recently – I keep putting it off. What were you both talking about?"

"Theodore Nott," replied Hermione.

"You know, funny that you mention him because he keeps lurking in the Library whenever we study there," mused Ginny. "You'd look nice together, Hermione; he's really fit but… a Slytherin… and a Death Eater."

Hermione felt a sickly twist flow through her veins. "I'm also dating your brother," she said quietly.

Ginny turned to her and rolled her eyes, implying that Hermione had lost her mind somehow.

"Theo's certainly made rounds with the girls in your year too," voiced Parvati.

"I heard he has quite a large–"

"Ego?" supplied Hermione. The girls laughed, finally reaching the Great Hall.

The tension in the room was palpable as soon as the student's saw who had walked through the oak doors. There were whoops, yelps and wolf whistles following them to the Gryffindor table.

"Harry?" called Hermione as they approached the Gryffindor table. Harry looked up stiffly and immediately ducked his head into his porridge, a hand cupped to his face.

Hermione took in the sullen, pale face of Ron who was toying with his own porridge. Neville sat beside him reading the Daily Prophet, a grimace plastered on his face. Parvati leaned over Neville's shoulder, and her mouth fell into an 'O' shape.

Hermione sat next to Harry and buttered some toast.

"What's happened?"

"Well… uh, just some rumours going about like usual."

"Well, what is it?" Hermione asked bemusedly. Neville looked worriedly at Ron but handed her the Daily Prophet. It read:

 **POTTER PROPOSES WHILE WEASLEY WEEPS FOR STRANGER GRANGER** _written by Rita Skeeter._

"To whom?" shrieked Ginny who stepped back, assessing her boyfriend with an appalled look marring her face. There were some sniggers from neighbouring tables, but Ginny shot them an icy glare, silencing many of them.

"To you, dipshit," called one Ravenclaw.

"Oh, whoops! I must have forgotten," Ginny commented sarcastically.

"How is she doing this…" murmured Hermione as she read the article, which spoke of the argument Ron and she had in the owlery the other day. "She isn't registered," she shook the paper and sank to the bench.

The article was particularly harsh towards Ron who apparently "begged," "sobbed" and "clung to Ms Granger, who stood askance with the feeble reassurance of her love for Weasley."

"How could anyone be this conniving?" Hermione hissed, rummaging through her bag and procuring some parchment and quill.

"I think Ron got the worse end of the stick," said Neville.

"Well, last week they said I was related to a ghoul and the week before that Harry and I had broken up. I hardly think the Daily Prophet has any floor to stand on when they spout this rubbish," Ginny started running her eyes over the front page having taken the copy from Hermione. She peeked at her brother. "Also, nobody is going to believe any of it. Everyone knows you're both madly in love."

Ron glanced over towards Hermione, not quite reaching her eyes. Harry ducked his head further and gave up on eating his porridge altogether.

"What is this, Harry," asked Ginny, now referring to the part involving her and her boyfriend.

"I–" Harry started, sweat forming on his brow. "I might have mentioned something to Ron and Hermione about… the future." Harry grimaced ready to hear the dismissive words of Ginny Weasley as she pronounced their relationship terminated in front of the entire living body of Hogwarts. Did he really defeat the darkest wizard of all time?

However, when Ginny thanked a few people who walked past who said 'congratulations', Harry's heart stopped feeling so heavy.

Ginny leaned over the table and whispered, "I hope they don't think that they're invited to the wedding." The table laughed jovially.

Hermione finished her letter and rolled it up. "That woman has another thing coming to her. If she thinks she can–" words drifted off of her tongue as she took in the retreating form of Ron striding solemnly away from their table.

"It's not true is it, Hermione?" Ginny asked, placing her hand on Hermione's shoulder. Her friend looked down at the photo that plastered the front-page alongside the article.

There Hermione stood, her black and white figure tying a thick envelope to an owl's leg. Hermione watched herself turn towards the exit a deep frown marring her face when Ron spins her around and says 'I love you.' She thought at the time that her smile had been wide, that her eyes might've twinkled, that her love for Ron was evident on her face. Instead, Hermione saw the false twitch of her lips and the glassy look that she gave Ron as her mouth formed the words 'I know.'

She hated herself at that moment, guilt-ridden that Ron got the chance to relive their very private conversation. In Hermione's head, it certainly hadn't felt bad, but now that his declaration of love was printed and undoubtedly seen by hundreds of wizards and witches, Hermione wished she could go back and say that she loved him too.

* * *

Draco sat at the back of the classroom in Arithmancy, hoping that Hermione would choose her regular seat so that he could surreptitiously arrange a meeting with her without it looking strange.

She arrived to class and hesitated when she spotted Draco, not in his usual seat near the front of the classroom. Draco suddenly felt as if he had done the wrong thing, crossed a line somehow, but Hermione walked towards him.

"I thought I would help you out with that Arithmancy work you were struggling with," he drawled.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat down. "Thanks," she murmured, "very subtle". Draco smirked.

"Have a good night sleep?"

"Oh, yeah, I slept the whole hour," she said dryly.

"Clearly not a morning person then, eh Granger?"

Hermione looked at Draco and noticed that he barely had any dark circles and had a vibrancy about him. Again, she was in awe of his sharp features, his gracefulness and his silvery eyes were shining with humour. Hermione sat up straight and adjusted her hair, wondering how she looked that morning.

"Not today, I'm not."

"I saw the Prophet this morning; was a little harsh to say your face resembled a codfish. Frankly, I think an otter would have been more precise."

Laughing to herself at his choice of animal, Hermione gave him a chastising glance. "I wrote a letter to the editor and the Ministry about that terrible Skeeter woman. She's an unregistered animagus, you know."

"I do know," Draco nodded, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Oh, right. I forgot you were a little slimeball in ou Fourth Year… and every year after that."

Draco nudged her with his elbow and shook his head sharply, quietly and with humour, indicating that one does not speak of such things. Hermione felt the tiniest of jolts in her stomach; she should have eaten something at breakfast.

"I thought we should meet after dinner in the Library?"

"My friends want to study there tonight," said Hermione.

"Say you needed my help for Arithmancy," shrugged Draco. Hermione gave him a hard look.

"That's funny because you don't want to be seen with me," she said crossly, implying the time he stole her book in the library.

"That's not true," said Draco in a matter of fact voice. "I just don't want to cause a scene in a very public place with a very illustrious witch."

Hermione's cheeks felt a little hot; perhaps it was the sun on her back from the window? She waved her wand to close the curtain so that shadow fell on the two of them. The class was starting now as Professor Vector came swooping in with her long purple velvet robe and matching hat.

"The Library, nine o'clock tonight," Draco whispered with finality.

* * *

Later that evening after dinner Hermione found herself in the Library surrounded by books with Ginny, Parvati, Luna, Harry and Ron. Luna was writing her Care of Magical Creatures essay, and so had a book that Hagrid had insisted they use which tended to growl every other page. It was very unnerving.

Harry was doodling on his parchment, Ginny working on her Potions essay, Ron was working for once, and Hermione was struggling to find a reason to ditch her friends. She sighed and huffed until Parvati turned from her Transfiguration textbook to give Hermione a tired glance.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing really, I just can't understand this question for Arithmancy," Hermione could hear the deception in her voice, she hoped that it would work. Her heart was hammering in her chest.

"Oh, let me have a look," said Ginny who pushed aside her work.

Hermione panicked. "No, no! It's er… really advanced and uh..." an idea struck her. "Well, Malfoy answered the question correctly, and Professor Vector set it as homework. I'm using it as a personal challenge to try and beat him."

"Isn't Arithmancy your best subject?"

"Yes, but everyone has trouble sometimes…" grumbled Hermione. She hated lying to her friends. Was this now who she was; someone that kept secrets from her friends? Surely, not – Hermione was only trying to help another student from getting into any worse trouble.

"Oh, look! Here comes the sexy Slytherin," whispered Parvati. Ron and Harry looked up, quite unsubtly. Theo Nott was strolling along the corridor towards their table. He gave Hermione a dashing smile.

"He's sexy?" said Ron in disgust. Ginny and Parvati shared a cheeky glance. Harry covered Ginny's eyes with his hand.

"Hey Hermione," Theo smiled devilishly. "Gryffindors," he nodded to the table who looked oddly between him and Hermione.

"Hi, Theo."

"I was just wondering if I could steal you away to give aid to a particularly tricky Transfiguration essay that I can't quite see eye-to-eye with?"

Hermione couldn't help but think 'what luck,' because she really didn't need another obstacle to jump over just to meet Malfoy that evening.

"You wouldn't happen to be sitting with Malfoy would you?" asked Hermione. Theo hesitated but nodded, confirming that he was sitting with Draco. "Great. Maybe he'll help me with this question."

Hermione stood and picked up her bag ready to walk with Theo to wherever he was sitting.

"Hermione? Your work?"

"Oh, right! Yes. Thanks, Gin," Hermione said, sheepishly, as she gathered her parchment and textbook that she stupidly forgot on the table. Ginny stared at her friend oddly with a quizzical and thoughtful gaze. Hermione prayed Ginny wouldn't say anything.

As she followed Theo down the corridor, she heard Ron ask what was so "sexy" about Theo.

Theo chuckled darkly beside her. "I'm sexy, am I?"

"It would appear so," Hermione mused. She could admit that Theo did have an attractiveness about him as well as a certain charm. It wasn't surprising that he almost always had a girl on his arm.

"Are the rumours true?"

"Which rumours?" replied Hermione as she looked around for the signature blond hair of Draco Malfoy.

"About you and Weasley."

"It's hardly a topic really; everyone has arguments. We're no different from anyone else, and of course, they just want some news to sell papers."

Theo nodded, deep in thought. "You still want to be with him then?"

Hermione spluttered, a little speechless. "Of-of course! We… we love each other." Hermione rubbed her temple as they finally reached the table where Zabini and Malfoy were sitting.

"Granger, Granger, Granger," whooped Blaise, whose smile broadened. He was leaning on the back legs of his chair with his hands clasped behind his head. Draco looked imperiously at his friend, who swung forward to sit on all four legs of his chair with a reprimanded thud.

This was far too odd for Hermione's liking. She was the last to take a seat, in-between Theo and Draco. Did Blaise and Theo know that Draco was looking for the Sigil of Lucifer? The Devil's Seal? 'Oh bloody hell, Hermione,' she echoed Ron's crass wording in her mind, 'what've you gotten yourself into? Who would help an ex-Death Eater to find the sodding Devil's Sigil? You would, dear.'

Hermione was a little perplexed to see that Theo had actually been working on a Defence Against the Dark Arts essay and not Transfiguration.

"What did you need help with?" Hermione finally blurted out, uncomfortable in her seat.

Theo smirked, "I stupidly left my essay in the Slytherin Common Room, if you want to come down and study there, it might be easier than having these two breathing down our necks."

"I don't mind. I can wait here while you go and get it?" suggested Hermione. Theo's eyes twinkled as he looked at her. He stood up and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Come, Hermione. You don't want to spend your time with these two, do you? Might get called some nasty names," he urged.

Hermione's eyes widened a little.

"See, what did I tell you, Granger?" drawled Draco with a lick of his lips. "Theo here was thinking to get you sat on the couch, all cosy and warm by the fire, give up on an essay he already finished days ago just so that he can tickle your neck and try his luck."

"Aren't you funny, Drake," grinned Theo. It was clear that he meant it rhetorically.

"I'll help you tomorrow, Theo. Perhaps during breakfast or lunch?"

Theo ground his teeth but nodded, sitting back down next to Hermione. She could feel the tension between him and Draco. 'Boys,' she thought dismissively.

"Malfoy, I was actually hoping you could help me with an equation for Arithmancy? I'm not sure I have the correct book…?"

Malfoy stopped sneering at his friend and turned to Hermione, with a raised brow. His features were so controlled and precise as if every move was deliberate and yet smooth like water. His edges were sharp and, just for the briefest of moments, she wondered if he could be rough.

He was analysing her, eyes scanning her face and not unkindly at that, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"They know, Granger."

Hermione dropped her shoulders in relief. "You could have told me so I wouldn't have had to go through this farce!" huffed Hermione. "Making it out as if Theo was interested. What are you, children?" she scorned.

Theo exchanged a look with Blaise as if hurt, to which his friend sniggered.

"I ask them the same question every day," muttered Draco.

"Seeing as there are three of you, surely you don't need me?"

"They're of no help to me," he dismissed.

"You told us to 'fuck off', actually," Blaise pointed out.

"Said you 'didn't need help', but here you are asking Hermione. Do you know anything about this 'thing' he's trying to find?" Hermione shook her head. "See! Does it even exist; I wonder?" Theo banged the table with his palm to emphasise his point.

"Why do you need it?" Hermione asked turning back to Draco who had his fingertips pressed to his forehead.

"Oh, here we go," breathed Draco.

"I need to know what I'm doing hanging around three ex-Death Eaters," exclaimed Hermione.

"Two," Blaise interjected raising two fingers and then pointing at himself, shaking his head and hand back and forth.

"Let's get out of here, Granger," said Draco as he rose from the table.

Hermione eyed Blaise and Theo but complied and followed Draco to a secluded area in the back of the Library close to the Restricted Section.

"If you're trying to make a spectacle of me, Malfoy, I assure you I know spells your father wouldn't have uttered."

"Calm down, Granger; I'm not doing anything to you." Draco swung around to face Hermione, and her threat fell instantly as his towering form was upon her. He looked down, grey eyes darting between her amber ones, his fringe fell across his forehead. He smelled quite inviting … a cologne … "I need you to get into the Restricted Section."

"Okay," said Hermione thoughtlessly, staring at him with slow blinks. Realising that she was acting strangely, Hermione dropped her head and took a step back from him. "Why do you think you need to look in the Restricted Section?" she coughed, adjusting her skirt.

"An educated guess," replied Draco. He took hold of her arm and pulled her in front of him, both hands resting on her sides. "There's Pincey, go on and ask her," he said with a little push. Hermione tutted and gave him a sneer over her shoulder.

Draco again watched her walk away from him, her skirt dancing around the backs of her knees. He noted how his hands had fit nicely to the curve of her hips. He had to wonder whether he thought Granger was attractive because he couldn't see her face or because she couldn't see him checking her out.

'Disgusting,' he shook his head. 'What is that quote… I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave?' He scratched his head and rubbed his eyes, 'do you hate to see her go?'

"Got it."

Startled, Draco turned around wide-eyed at the curly-haired witch holding up a slip of parchment with Madam Pince's signature scrawled on it.

"That was fast."

"There are benefits when you're a good person," she murmured, brushing past him to unlatch the door to the Restricted Section. "Are you coming?"

Draco looked over his shoulder and saw Madam Pince at her desk reading a book. Hadn't she read everything in this library twice already?

"Better not risk it."

"And let me do all the work?"

"I can't get caught in there, Granger."

Understanding his argument, Hermione made her way into the secluded half of the library. Waiting for her return, Draco picked through the books on the 'tamer' side of the Library.

* * *

"Mr Malfoy, I have to ask you to leave; the Library has closed." Madam Pince shooed Draco out of the Library, her wand aloft in a threatening motion. "You can read all you like tomorrow."

Draco inwardly cursed the petulant woman. Granger was still inside the Library right at the back of the aisles; he could see her through the wooden barricade for most of the evening. He had whispered harshly to her to hurry up, but she had the nerve to wave him off as she read a tome.

"There's a Gryffindor still in there," Draco pointed out. Pince looked sharply at him. "Granger, she's still mulling around in there," he said in the hope that he could speak to Hermione about her findings.

Madam Pince shook her head and closed the Library door behind her. "Never you mind about other students, boy," she said brusquely, as she made her way to her living quarters.

Draco sauntered to the end of the corridor and waited there, muttering wilfully, as he went. Ten minutes later Hermione found Draco leaning against the wall with his ankles crossed, his head lolling to the side as he slept.

She touched his arm and woke him gently. He opened his eyes in a bleary and slow way and smiled sleepily down at Hermione.

"Finished?"

"For now," she nodded. "I have books in my bag." She began taking a few of them out.

"This won't have anything to do with him, will it?" Draco plucked a political ledger of counties in Britain dating four hundred years ago from her hand.

"No, I just thought that one would be an interesting read," sighed Hermione as she took the book from his hands and slotted it back into her bag.

Draco swung his backpack forward and pulled out the book on the Malfoy family and handed it over to Hermione. "The passage I showed you is the only relevant part."

"I gathered that, but I was quite fascinated by your history. King William I? That's an exceptional record that, as a Muggleborn, I never would have thought wizards were involved with!"

"Reading up on my family's history for pleasure? Are you applying to be the next Malfoy wife or something?" he asked with an upturned nose.

"Goodness, is that all it takes? I would've thought I'd have to transfuse blood from a pureblood and sacrifice a child on an altar and feed it to a bunch of slithering, ravenous snakes."

"Actually, you may be surprised to find that having pure blood isn't a strict rule in becoming a Malfoy – although, you were correct with the oblational baby."

Hermione peaked up at him through her lashes, a curious glint in her eye. "Is that true?"

"I was kidding about the sacrifice," he laughed lightly.

"So the whole blood purity thing is just… decoration?" Hermione turned to him and narrowed her eyes.

Draco shrugged. "It's just not one of the rules."

"There are other rules?" Hermione asked, aghast. Draco sucked his cheek and nodded. "Goodness," she chuckled, "good luck to her!"

There was silence now as they each contemplated the conversation they had just had. After a short while, Draco rubbed his hands together and smiled tensely.

"Well that's great work, Granger," he praised her as he held out his hand ready to receive the bundle of books she had.

"Oh, I'm not giving these to you yet, mister!" Hermione scolded, slapping Draco's hand away.

Draco pulled back, pretending to feel affronted. "Ah yes, I forgot a tiny witch like yourself can stop the likes of me from getting those books," he smirked, slinking his arm around her.

"But a piece of paper stopped you," Hermione turned to her side, so Draco had to reach down to get anywhere near her bag. Their faces were inches away, and he had to look up to look at her.

Slowly, he brought himself back to full height. There was a small voice to the back of Hermione's head that told her ' _don't_ '. ' _Don't_ ' do what? What was she doing?

"I would like to read these first," she said quietly, eyes never leaving his.

He swallowed and nodded. "Alright."

"Next time… I'll let you see."

"Let me see what?" he asked throatily.

"The books in the Restricted Section," she said tucking her hair behind her ear. "I was sort of distracted in there." Hermione gave a half-hearted chuckle.

"S'fine, Granger," slurred Draco. ' _Where'd that come from?_ ' he thought stupidly to himself. "It's fine," he corrected more firmly.

"Yes, well… goodnight?"

Draco cleared his throat and walked backwards, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets. "Yeah, see you tomorrow."

"We don't have class together," she reminded him.

"We swap Charms and DADA in the afternoon."

"Oh, I guess I'll see you then."

"Yeah."

' _Draco Malfoy what the bloody fuck are you on about_?' he thought, seriously, as he strode resolutely away from Hermione.


	18. Chapter 18

**It's officially Winter today (I say today, but it's currently 3am of the next day)! Time to celebrate with more champagne! Uh... I mean... the first bottle of the holiday season! Uh, I mean... first glass!**

 **Who am I kidding – I'm sat with alcohol, chocolate and leftover dinner. On to the next chapter we go!**

* * *

Hermione laid out eight books on her bed and pulled the curtains around, so she was effectively alone to read her spoils. Several books spoke of ill intent towards muggles and Muggleborn wizards and witches, to which Hermione mostly ignored due to their historical accountability. However, some stories were really quite unnerving.

Hermione had checked a couple of the books out before. She had wanted to have a broad spectrum of topics on Purebloods, muggles, Muggleborns, criminal incidents, literature and on notorious wizarding families. It took a long time to find any books worth reading because not only did she want to read about the Sigil of Lucifer but she also wanted to learn about the man himself.

This Lucifer chap was fairly elusive, and it frustrated Hermione that the search was much more involved than she had hoped. Some tomes dated several centuries back, others more recently but by Draco's account it was difficult to fully understand precisely when Lucifer was around. If he hadn't appeared any younger (as Armand Malfoy had noted) and with Hermione's still rather weak theory that he may have connections to famous poets over several years, she thought she would have an idea of where to start.

Of course, this was Malfoy's project after all, which only concerned her the more she thought about it. None of the books she came across in the Library made even a small mention of a Sigil or a Seal of Satan or its Latin equivalent. She started to wonder if Theo was right; did it really exist?

It must exist, or else Malfoy wouldn't have taken an interest in it, and she had to consider that Harry, Ron and herself had initially disregarded the Deathly Hallows as a legend. It took Hermione a while to get into the flow of research, but by the time bedtime came around she had a list of new books she wanted to read and the topics she wanted to examine.

She flicked through the pages of The Sacred Pureblood Twenty-Eight – The Malfoy Family and groaned when it was entirely written in French. This would take her a little longer to read, and she hoped that the other tomes would at least start to revert to English later. Not that she was planning to read the entire seven volumes but were she to chance upon reading the others then it would make a more comfortable reading.

At least, that's what she told herself.

Another thing to note, Malfoy wasn't strictly honest with her, and he knew more than he was letting on about Lucifer. If someone told him about the man, then there was a verbal legend as well as the small written passage in the book she was currently holding. That meant he must have gathered the information from his family at the very least.

She rubbed her eyes and shrunk the books to fit into her beaded bag. What a spectacle she would make if anyone found out she was researching about a dead man related to Draco sodding Malfoy.

The next day, Hermione found it particularly difficult to concentrate during Transfiguration. They were learning Conjuration for their N.E. , and it was proving to be a lot more challenging than Hermione had thought. She had tried conjuring elementary objects like the wreath she had summoned for Harry's parents, last winter but today they were conjuring more complex objects.

Hermione sighed as she tried to conjure a chest of drawers for the fifth time and finding it arrived on only three legs. Others were struggling around her, but this was very un-Hermione-like to take this long to correct a spell that was ninety percent perfect.

However, what was currently renting out space in her mind was not Lucifer or her Head Girl duties or even Ron but rather Draco. She couldn't help but remise over the conversations they had had recently. He was arrogant and prideful, sometimes cruel with his words, yet charming and manly, and when he gave her the handkerchief the other night, he was gentlemanly too.

Hermione shook her head, thinking of how Draco had asked for her to help him. He's acting differently because he needs your help not because he's any different, Hermione. If he weren't looking for this Sigil, then he sure as hell would have taken the opportunity to sneer at her.

Wouldn't he?

He wasn't around during lunch, so Hermione took to looking at the Marauder's map when she went to the toilets. He was on top of the Astronomy Tower, to Hermione's surprise. She wouldn't have thought he would want to go back after all that had transpired there.

From what Hermione could tell he was looking over towards the lake. He moved not too long after she had spotted his tiny feet and name tag floating on the map. This was a little above and beyond what Hermione was expecting she would do when she started her Seventh year at Hogwarts.

With a deep sigh, she tucked the map into her pocket and left the cubicle she had resided. She chose to visit Moaning Myrtle's bathroom knowing that Myrtle was content to leave her alone most times she entered, preferring the company of her male companions.

Spotting the sink with the serpent etched on its tap, Hermione's cast back her thoughts to the evening of the battle and of her and Ron's first kiss after they had travelled down to the Chamber of Secrets to collect the basilisk fangs. Then of Ron's empathetic heroism towards the house-elves, and of an impromptu kiss fuelled by adrenaline.

Later, after Defence Against the Dark Arts, Hermione found herself filled with tiny apprehension in seeing Draco in the corridor as the Slytherin and Gryffindor houses would swap lessons. They would not speak, but Hermione gathered that the idea of knowing a secret and not confiding in her two best friends was indeed rather thrilling. Like Draco had said, it may be her own little adventure of sorts, wherever it led.

She realised it would be terribly idiotic of her to confess to Ron and Harry that she and Draco were on speaking terms and were looking for some dead man's emblem. Firstly, it would put pressure on Malfoy and possibly his future, which she knew shouldn't lead to a cell in Azkaban, and secondly, which she hated the most to admit, was that she liked their repartee.

He was engaging, intelligent and witty and now that they were conversing after all these years of back-handed comments and sneers, Hermione could see the humour of it. Or perhaps she was going soft, and Malfoy really was just using a different tactic to use her.

Around the bend came the group of Slytherin students and to Hermione's surprise, Draco wasn't among the crowd. Theo winked at her as they passed, a cheeky smile plastered on his face. Behind them came their Ravenclaw classmates who headed off to another lesson other than DADA.

When Hermione and Parvati entered Flitwick's classroom ahead of Harry, Ron and Neville, she managed to get the tail-end of a conversation Draco was having with the short professor.

"Mr Malfoy I assure you they mean no ill-intent. There are just some with adverse feelings of hurt and pain and mistrust. You can understand that, can't you?"

"Professor, I simply ask that you speak with Kerr and Stewart because they're… a distraction."

"Nonsense, nonsense! You must focus your mind Mr Malfoy, that way your spell work will improve and you can ignore the boys, whatever they might be saying."

"I don't want to get hexed in the corridor," said Draco in a strained whisper, aware that the classroom was filling up with Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

Hermione felt a twinge of sadness as she unloaded her bag, listening intently to the two wizard's conversations. Flitwick, however, was finished speaking as he turned away from Malfoy and shook his head vehemently, giving Malfoy a stern gaze as if he disapproved of his honesty.

Draco sighed and asked Flitwick to sign his performance review, reminding his Charm's tutor that he should write why Draco would be late to his next class. Upon receiving his report, he turned around and his eyes caught on Hermione from the nearby desk. Averting his gaze, he walked with refined purpose towards the exit.

Hermione decided to head to the Library after their last class of the day, telling her friends that she wasn't hungry. On her way, she took out Harry's map and searched the little figures, but it was difficult as everyone was heading towards the Great Hall. Without any luck in finding Malfoy, she folded the map up.

She figured it wasn't a bad idea to head into the Restricted Section again and focus her attention on this Sigil. Hermione argued that by helping Malfoy find whatever it was, she was efficiently watching over his business and keeping him out of trouble. There was no way that he would get away with wrongdoing if someone like herself with a moral compass was in charge and knew what he was doing.

The Sigil of Lucifer… it didn't sound good at all and by the description of the wizard she had read, he didn't seem nice either. Perhaps it was some sort of artefact or repellent for Muggleborns, some impurity destroying device that Malfoy was trying to harness.

His words from their second year rang out to her eerily: "You'll be next, Mudblood." Hermione shook her head. Of course, it wasn't that. Otherwise, she would have been long dead after the Snatchers had caught them because Malfoy would have ratted them out. She also reminded herself of the Quidditch World Cup and how Draco had indirectly warned them that the Death Eaters wouldn't be sympathetic to Hermione and that they should leave the area.

The Library was quiet at this time so Hermione found peace between the shelves as she picked out titles that she thought might be relevant. She looked for the Sigillum Diabolus, the Devil's Seal, the Sigil of Lucifer, Lucifer himself. Unfortunately, several of the texts, which although educationally stimulating, were encumbered with irrelevant details. They didn't reveal much to Hermione other than on a literary level.

Hermione was four-hundred pages deep in a thick and dusty volume when she heard a "psst". Looking up she saw Malfoy leaning against the wooden barricade, which Hermione couldn't help but imagine was a prison cell rather than the walls of the Restricted Section. His aristocratic features didn't suit the image.

She lifted the book with her as she walked briskly to him.

"Look what I found," she said excitedly, turning the book to face Draco. He peered through the bars and read.

" _Evile came forthe upon that wretched day in the shape of a man with a wide grin, whose curling forked tongue and hot-coal eyes were not fitte for Heaven's gate. Angells set to throw Lucifero to the depths of hell fell as he struck them dead. Hereafter, Almighty God himself formed The Hierarchie of the Blessed Angell (19)."_

Draco finished reading the passage and looked up at Hermione's eager face. It struck him how innocent she looked, unfettered by the idea that the devil may have existed.

"The Hierarchie of the Blessed Angell?" questioned Draco. "I've never heard of it. What makes you think this is the Lucifer I'm looking for?"

"Well, I've been looking at this text, and I haven't seen anything enlightening because this all sounds quite muggle if I'm honest. That was until I saw the footnote! Look here, it reads:

"(19) _Although wildly disputed over its existence, it is said that Salazar Slytherin (A founder of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry) was gifted the only written copy of The Hierarchie of the Blessed Angell. The author is unknown. However, William Arthur Dimbleby, a "friend" of Slytherin, wrote this extract as an essence of the book's contents_."

Draco smirked, "well done, Granger. I'm collecting on that investment." Hermione smugly snapped the book shut and quirked her brow at him.

"If you perhaps gave me some more information then I'd be able to narrow down what I'm supposed to be searching. However, seeing as you like being so cryptic, I don't have any choice. I guessed a route… but if you think I'm heading in the wrong direction…?" she questioned, but he didn't relent. Hermione pulled back and made her way to the main part of the Library. When she reached him, he had a stern look in his eye as he thought intensely. "You said it was called the devil's Sigil."

"The Sigil of Lucifer," he corrected.

"No, when you first asked you called it the Sigillum Diabolus." Draco nodded as he remembered. Hermione smacked her forehead as if something were blatantly obvious. "Maybe I'm reading in the wrong language," she said sucking in a breath. "Oh, this is going to be a long one." Hermione was tapping her foot, thoughts running wildly through her head.

"Merlin, are you always this high-strung?" Draco asked as he observed her eyes flickering like birds as she thought.

"What? No, I'm plenty relaxed! You just happened to have set me a challenge that needs more thought, processing and organisation. Maybe I need to draw a table to compare witness encounters?" she asked rhetorically, already mentally arranging the rows and columns.

Draco looked bemusedly at her. They weren't wrong about her, what everyone seemed to be saying. He had been aware of her intelligence, often finding out that she had bested him in exams, which he had to admit unnerved him to no end and also aided his conviction of her.

To experience her quick intelligence in real life was something else. He found her a little strange; unpredictable. Was that because she was a Muggleborn? Was she that different from pureblooded wizards and witches? She has a different culture … who knows what her normal is?

Hermione sighed and looked sadly up at Draco. "At the very least there is a connection to Slytherin, so I'm not entirely at a loss here. There's so much to look at; I'm a little overwhelmed."

Draco knew the feeling, and suddenly he felt fear strike his heart. Granger might not even be his answer if she was struggling then what could he do?

"I'll have to start looking for more information about this Hierarchie of the Blessed Angell. Perhaps we can find out more information about Lucifer from it. By your ancestor's account, it really does sound as if he was ageing at a completely different rate." Hermione measured Draco's reaction.

He had his head in his hand, slowly rubbing his forehead as he thought. She was so positive and eager. Even knowing that this was a long journey, she still wanted to continue. Draco felt a swell of hope rise in his chest.

"Malfoy, you have to give me something… anything! Otherwise, I won't be able to help you."

The swell in his chest burst like a popped balloon. "No, Granger," he rumbled angrily, holding out a hand as if to hold her in place. "I–I know for certain that the Sigil is somewhere in Hogwarts. What I don't know is what it looks like or where it's hidden."

Hermione regarded him slowly, again unsure if Malfoy was telling her the entire truth. "Do you know what it does?" she asked.

Draco crossed his arms and smirked wickedly at her. "Good one, Granger."

"I had to try."

"If you keep on trying I might just have to hex you," he leered. Hermione scoffed and swatted him with the book she was holding. Draco grinned down at her seeing her brow pucker as she continued reading the book.

Hermione handed him back the book she had borrowed on his family history so that Draco could return it. It had been plenty fun to read and Hermione enjoyed finding out about wizarding history through such a prominent family.

After another hour of searching and reading, they decided that enough was enough for that evening and both made their way to bed, expressing that they will speak more over the next few days.

* * *

"You haven't been in the Library," commented Hermione during Potions. She and Draco had come together on another rotation of classmates, and thankfully they had a practical lesson so they could talk without looking odd.

"I've been busy," droned Draco.

"Doing what?"

"Homework," he replied dryly. It was true, he did have a mountain of homework that needed attention, and because he and Granger had been researching for something entirely non-educationally related, it meant that he had less time to do the work.

"No you haven't," scrutinised Hermione.

"And what, pray tell, makes you so certain that I haven't been doing that?"

"You're out and about in the corridors, looking for it, I know!" Hermione pointed her knife in his direction, a non-threat of such.

"Can't I have a wander? It's a freedom I choose to exercise," he spoke with an arrogance only a Malfoy could wear with dignity.

"Again, I would like to reiterate that you're not telling me something about this-this Sigil," she whispered, pulling her brows together in frustration.

"How do you know I've been 'out and about'? Do you have your little sparrows following me or are you pretending to be my shadow?"

"I've seen you," she said quickly.

"Under Potter's cloak?" he peered at her under his brow, waiting to see her reaction and to see if he had been correct.

Hermione looked a little ruffled by his words. Clearly, she thought that Potter's cloak wasn't common knowledge; certainly, the Dark Lord spoke of it. Hermione decided to ignore his comment.

"You've been travelling down random corridors, and it can't be going well for you otherwise you wouldn't be looking quite so tired," she tipped some creamed frog juice into the potion, making it froth happily.

Draco ignored her too, "Or perhaps you have a map that shows you where I am at all times," Draco said softly, watching, waiting.

"A map? Of Hogwarts? Now wouldn't that be lovely," Hermione smiled curtly, rushing the next stage of the potion, turning it a little too green than what their textbook had instructed.

"Yes," he murmured, "one telling you exactly where every person was at that moment. It would lend to a stalker's habits."

"Wishful thinking, really." Hermione could feel her hair becoming frizzier as small palpitations beat wildly in her chest. "Could you pass me some arrowroot?"

Draco obliged. "I've been searching for clues as to where it might be; I'm not just sitting back and waiting until you find something, Granger. I asked for help, not for someone to do it for me."

"That's surprising."

"I told you why I asked you for help," he said tersely, clearly still wounded in pride that he had to ask anybody for help, let alone Hermione Granger.

"Actually, it's more surprising that you're not sitting back and letting me get on with it. I know perfectly well that I was your best option," said Hermione as if it were obvious. Draco narrowed his eyes at her.

"Only because you're a know-it-all. Do you do anything else but study and look after Potty and Weasel?"

"Of course!" Hermione straightened her back and looked him in the eye through the steam of the potion. "I knit."

"You knit? Knit what?"

"Hats, scarves… that sort of thing. It's a lot easier with magic, but then I suppose I can't say that that's me knitting anymore, can I?"

Draco just looked at her sceptically. "You know you can buy those things, don't you?"

Hermione chuckled, and it was a delicate laugh as if she didn't want to offend him. "Yes, I know. It's a hobby, Malfoy; I do it for fun."

"I haven't seen you wear anything knitted," he observed. Hermione shrugged in return.

"I make them for the elves."

"Pardon?"

"The house elves," repeated Hermione.

"Yes, I heard you. I'm simply wondering where your sanity wandered off to."

"They seem to like them," she bristled under his gaze.

"I visit the kitchen's quite often, and I certainly haven't seen any hats or scarves in there."

"Well, I think they appreciate the gesture more than the actual items," Hermione blushed, but she stood proudly acting as though she weren't affected. "Dobby loved them; he wore everything I made," she sighed sadly.

"I like Dobby, he's… brave," admitted Draco. Hermione regarded the man in front of her, his steely features and grey eyes. Was Draco Malfoy admiring a house elf? The day had come much sooner than she'd been expecting. "Did he…?"

"Yes… Bellatrix. A-at the manor," she whispered, feelings rising quickly. She tried to quell the bubble of emotion inside of her; she could feel the warm tingle of tears coming to the surface.

It was the first time that either had addressed what had happened in Malfoy Manor earlier that year, and it was much worse than Draco had expected it to be. He could see and hear the effort it took for Hermione to say it, the quiver in her voice and her paling skin. He knew what it was like to be tortured by his Aunt, by several others actually, and it was everything that scared you in life brought forward, piercing your head with utter pain and devastation. Your brain felt like it was on fire, your skin sliced and torn, punctured and your thoughts were solely about finding death as depression and anger and fear ran amuck in the corners of your mind.

Draco recalled how he had felt, how he still felt. His Aunt's magic pierced, over and over and over again until his screams turned him into a tableau vivant, a silent picture of what was to come. The future of the Wizarding world was as bleak and as dark as he had felt at that moment. Once she finished with him, he truly did feel like he could kill to survive.

Hermione stood motionless before him, he didn't know what to say to her and even if he did he didn't know how to speak. He could picture her as clear as if he had travelled back in time, lying on the dark floor, writhing in pain and pleading with him to help her, to stop the sheer pain she was feeling. But all he could think about was not vomiting, holding in the urge so that he wouldn't be next under Bellatrix's wand.

Of course, due to the fact that he had vomited, he was consequently punished, but considering the extent of the situation, it didn't last long – until the Dark Lord had arrived.

"What did you do with him?" he breathed, finally finding his voice.

Hermione swallowed. "Harry dug him a grave."

Potions finished quietly, but to Draco's surprise, Granger was mulling around when everyone else had decided to leave. This was starting to become routine … Or so he thought before Granger walked past him to speak to Professor Slughorn about their recent homework. Draco didn't really know why he thought she was waiting to walk the short walk out of the dungeons with him.

Pushing past the Potion's room door, he decided to wait behind until she came out, for reasons he couldn't quite explain other than he felt like it. Shortly, Granger came out of the classroom, flicking her hair off of her shoulder and tucking paper into her satchel. She hadn't spotted him, so he chose to spare a few moments to appreciate her legs in her skirt. Draco realised that although he rarely took in Granger's appearance, he found himself appraising her more often than not and came to the honest conclusion that Granger wasn't quite as ugly as he originally thought she was.

"Granger," he called, striding up to her with his hands in his pockets. She turned around, with a flutter of her lashes that struck Draco as rather pretty. She smiled as he reached her and that was quite unusual, the norm being a scowl or something quite plain.

"Perhaps you could accompany me around the castle? T-to help look," he finished.

From the glassy look in her eye, Draco thought she would reject the offer, but after a short while, she nodded slowly.

"Yes, that might speed things up a little bit. Two pairs of eyes are better than one. I was thinking," she chewed on her bottom lip and Draco felt his manhood twitch, "we should maybe try McGonagall's office for books; perhaps the Hierarchie of the Blessed Angells is mentioned among them."

"Yes, why don't I go and ask her now over lunch if I can check her highly-classified bookcase to rifle through ancient scrolls, parchments and tomes to see if I can possibly feed my appetite for dangerous and daring deeds?"

"Very funny, Malfoy, but I'm serious. I contacted both Flourish & Blotts and Borgin & Burkes this week to see if they had any knowledge of it, neither of which had even heard of the Hierarchie of the Blessed Angells. I started thinking that it, alongside your Sigil, is more of an underused myth than fact but I trust you and you're not much of an idiot to start something that is likely to have no resolution."

In her flurried words, all that Draco had picked up was that Hermione Granger trusted him. Fuck.

"So you want to sneak into McGonagall's office? With all those portraits of past headmasters watching? With the chance that you could get caught and expelled and I could go to Azkaban for breaking and entering and you for aiding the conspiracy of a Death Eater?"

"You're very quick to forget that I impersonated Bellatrix Lestrange, infiltrated Gringotts, broke into your Aunt's high-security vault and rode away on an old, anxiety-driven, fire-breathing dragon. Malfoy, I am very capable of sneaking into a school office."

"Well, tell me how it goes," he said chirpily.

"You're," she turned and jabbed a finger into Draco's chest, "coming with me."

"Do you need some eye-candy for the journey?"

"Yes, that's clever; do you think Victor Krum will come along?"

Brushing aside her slight insult, he commented, "Interesting you didn't mention your boyfriend." Hermione narrowed her eyes at Draco before continuing in the direction of the Great Hall. She paused on the step, still moving in the safety of the shadows so that no one would see them talking.

"You're not a Death Eater, Malfoy," her eyes shone as she stared back at him. He felt a sudden need to not disappoint her. "Unless you'd like to confess to me now that you are, which would be rather nice, instead of having to find out about it when Voldemort comes back to haunt us because you're a little conniving prick?"

Draco smirked and shook his head at her to which she smiled warmly, but her eyes turned down, a fading smile on her lips. She graced him one last glance then twisted to walk briskly away.


	19. Chapter 19

**Emma3mikan, you wrote: "Continue please".**

 **Okay!**

* * *

"You mentioned a map of Hogwarts."

"I did."

Hermione and Draco were walking down a deserted corridor late in the evening. Hermione had proposed to schedule one of their castle walks during her Head Girl duties of patrolling the castle, knowing the areas where other Prefects were doing their rounds.

"Why did it take you so long? To mention it," she added when he quirked his brow at her.

He smiled and licked his lip. "I thought it was a secret," he leant towards Hermione as if to utter into her ear.

"Theo told you, didn't he," she sighed.

"He might have mentioned it." Draco also recalled that Theo had been flirting with Hermione that day. He felt an uncomfortable sensation flush down his spine. She was with the Weasel but did she reciprocate Theo's feelings? Even if she did, what did he care?

"I–" she hesitated, stiffening her back and looking straight ahead of her. There was a staircase up ahead, past the Defence Against the Dark Arts classrooms. "It's not mine," she finished with a taut pout.

"I didn't think it was," he said. Draco was exceptionally adept at appearing absent-minded, although Hermione figured him out by how still he was as he regarded a painting of a pastoral scene.

"You don't want to use it?" she asked, a knowing lilt in her voice.

"It's not mine either, Granger," he replied, stopping at another painting, this one of a glen somewhere in northern Scotland, the sun streaming down in glittering glory across a loch. He looked at it appreciatively but walked on further, taking in the details of a thin tapestry with intricate Celtic coils lining its border.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I presume you want me to get it for you?"

"Mm," he hummed, but rather than deign her with a response, he walked forward and through the archway to the stone staircase, taking the route upwards. Pausing midway, he swivelled around to ask her, "do you ever take these stairs? I think I came up here once in our Third Year…"

Hermione shook her head slowly in confusion; was he trying to avoid her question? Why? Undoubtedly, the Marauder's Map presented an excellent opportunity to aid him in his search?

"What a ghastly statue this fellow makes." Draco peered at the tall sculpture of Gregory the Smarmy and his protruding hump on his back that stood as the feature at the bottom of the staircase. Hermione had to agree with him; Gregory was an alarmingly hideous man, and frankly, she had to wonder who at Hogwarts deemed such an oily character as a suitable candidate to stand immortal in its walls.

"This statue takes you outside of Hogwarts," Hermione commented, looking towards Draco. His face pinched as he regarded Smarmy's hump but he immediately stiffened at her words. He glanced down but composed himself just as quickly.

"You could've used it," she said. In an instant, she regretted speaking at all.

"Pardon?" Draco tore his disdainful eyes away from the statue and looked sharply – and certainly more pointedly – at the woman standing steps below him.

"It would have been useful to you," she said, quietly. It was a thin line that they were walking along, precarious yet itching, which neither had tried to cross. Draco analysed her, a frown and a curled lip marring his usually stoic face.

"Would you have done it?" he asked piercingly, bitterness on his tongue. Hermione thought she could see the glimmer of tears but the moonlight trickled down from a window close by, and she couldn't be sure. She was taken aback by his question, so after a moment she responded.

"I don't know what I would've done," she whispered up to him.

"You weren't hurt that night." It wasn't quite a question, but Hermione could hear that he wanted it confirmed.

"We had Felix Felicis." Her answer filled in the story for him. Draco merely tilted his head and turned to continue up the steps. She followed closely behind with sombre thoughts of Dumbledore's body resting on the dew-dusted grass. They were silent for a time, but Hermione decided to push on.

"How do you know what to look for?" Taking up the rear, she started searching too for some clue regarding the Sigil. "You could've passed it and not known what it was," she pointed out as they reached the next landing of a hall with busts and vases and bookcases.

"I'm looking for irregularities, something different and not what it seems as if it weren't obvious," he said drily. Hermione tutted, drilling a glare into his back as he inspected the sculptures. She wandered naturally over to the bookcases, but there weren't any relevant topics.

"So when do you need the Sigil for?" quizzed Hermione, trying to get more answers out of him other than 'it exists in this castle.'

"I'd rather sooner than later," he muttered, now spying the carvings around a fireplace. Hermione was surprised to see how intensely he looked at everything he came across. Apparently, the Sigil was incredibly important to him or his cause.

"Who knows about it?" Hermione took to looking out the window, seeing how the moon created a shadow of Hogwarts against the grassy mounds by the lake. She could trace the line smoothly, drawing the castle with her finger in the air.

"Not many people. Let's go," he indicated that they leave the area. They found cupboards, bathrooms, classrooms and empty rooms. A significant portion of their time was spent inspecting ornaments and walls and paintings, and it was utterly exhausting.

Slowly, the lamps along the walls dimmed until they went out completely. Hermione checked her watch and saw that it was eleven o'clock.

"My Head Girl privileges are no longer in effect; I can't make an excuse for both of us being out of bed anymore."

"Do they even care if you're out of bed?" he derided.

"Not really," she admitted, "but they care if you are."

"Seems I'm quite important," Draco chuckled humourlessly. "I use a spell to keep myself out of trouble." He took out his wand and flicked it over his shoulder as if he were wearing a cloak.

Hermione couldn't see anything happen so looked rather unimpressed. "Was that meant to do something?"

Draco gestured with his head. "Stay close to me; I cast a perimeter spell alerting me to anyone nearby. Of course, if you were to step out of it and back in then the alarm would be set off." Hermione pursed her lips now recognising the spell and made her way, gingerly, to Draco's side.

"Isn't this cosy," he commented on their proximity.

"If you had the map we wouldn't need to be so close," she huffed, peering behind a tapestry to find there was only a wall there.

"Again, this elusive map! It sounds as if you want me to have this exclusive, brilliant, one-of-a-kind and splendidly helpful map. Or are you just going to dangle it in front of me like I'm some beast?"

"Let it be noted that you made that comparison and not I," Hermione chuckled. Draco scoffed, but he dropped the subject of the map again, realising that Hermione was bringing it up by herself; he hardly had to do anything.

By the time one o'clock came around, they had reached the Seventh Floor and were entering the North Tower, where at the very top of the spiral staircase Divination classes were held.

"This is the last place I ever thought I would find myself this year," yawned Hermione.

"I bet I wasn't involved either," said Draco. "We ought to figure out how we're going to get into McGonagall's office."

"I suggest we do it while the next Quidditch match is on, that way we can assure that the majority are in the stands including Professor McGonagall." Hermione came to a halt at the bottom of the stair and sat down to massage her sore legs. They had climbed several flights today, of course.

"Slytherin has a rematch this weekend, and the match after that is a while away," Draco sighed, choosing to stand in front of her with his hands in his pockets. He looked directly up the middle of the gallery to the ornate ceiling, but the trap door leading to Professor Trelawney's classroom ruined the sight.

Hermione looked up too, although found herself distracted by Draco's sharp jawline and his masculine stance. Was he really that tall? She supposed he was; she must come up to his shoulders.

With his angular features, he could have walked out of painting with the bluish shadows that cast against him under the moonlight. His hair was tussled and fell attractively in different directions across his forehead. His tie hung loosely around the open collar of his crisp, white shirt, which he had rolled partly up his forearms. His arms looked virile with the fine hairs that covered them. He wasn't a boy anymore but a man.

It was shame Hermione's reaction was slow due to tiredness. Otherwise, Draco wouldn't have caught her staring so blatantly up at him. She couldn't help the rosy glow of her heated cheeks.

He looked at her curiously as he took in her pink complexion and bright eyes but he didn't remark on it. She stood abruptly, suddenly full of enough energy to leave the secluded part of the castle but as she rose, she wobbled a little from how close he was standing to her. The steps were directly behind her so her feet couldn't exactly take her anywhere and because he chose not to move either, Hermione was practically in his arms.

He frowned, his mouth forming a low smirk as he watched her fluster, mere inches from him. Evidently, he knew he was affecting her in some way by how slowly he licked his lip and the low laugh under his breath.

"Come on, Granger. Time for bed," he nodded back as if to usher her forward. Hermione chewed her lip before placing her fingers in an arch upon his chest and lightly pushing Draco away from her, or else she thought she might burst into flame from his closeness. He sauntered back a few paces, a wild and smug grin plastered on his face.

"Let's just do it," blurted Hermione. Draco arched a brow at her, "I mean: break into McGonagall's office. Planning for this type of thing doesn't always work out, no matter how much you think you know someone's schedule. I say tomorrow will do fine."

"Mhm," hummed Draco as they walked back the way they had come. "Best to bring that legendary map of yours, Granger."

"Again, it's not mine, but I'll try and get it."

"That's the spirit! Stealing from your friends is never easy, but you seem more than capable. So I wouldn't worry about it."

"I'm not going to steal it, Malfoy. That's something you would do."

"What have I ever stolen?" he asked her in mock incredulous.

"Neville's Remembrall for one," she reminded him.

"Merlin, that was a fun lesson wasn't it?" He stroked his chin as he remembered, "It was a class you really couldn't master."

"Flying isn't natural!" she bit out.

"You're a witch."

"It's not a pleasant experience, alright?" Hermione huffed and crossed her arms defensively.

"Oh, come on, Granger. It probably was because you weren't having fun, in the first place. Next time I get my broom out, I'll show you how to ride it, and you'll find yourself thoroughly enjoying your time."

Hermione heard the implied innuendo and although she was prepared and unamused by her nemesis when he turned to flash her another grin she couldn't help another rush of blood flood to her cheeks. There was a little whorl of butterflies in her stomach. Hermione mentally cursed herself.

Then his wicked smile vanished, and he stared wide-eyed at her. Draco grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a small alcove with an urn on an ornate stand, he waved his wand, and the tapestry on the adjacent wall zoomed off its hangings and flapped heavily towards their small space. There was a gust of wind and a thick layer of dust flurried around them as the tapestry fixed itself into place, effectively blocking off all light.

"What–" Hermione started to ask, but Draco quickly wrapped his hand around her mouth to stop her from speaking. She listened intently and heard the soft shuffles of feet enter the corridor they were hiding in. There was an abrasive meow from a cat, and Hermione now understood what was happening.

Draco's proximity charm must have gone off, and it was Mrs Norris that had disturbed them. She could feel the deep but silent breaths of Draco who was pressed up against her, careful not to knock the vase behind them. Each breath brought their chests together, and Hermione was painfully aware of her breasts against his. There was no way that he wouldn't have felt her too.

"What is it, Mrs Norris?" They heard Filch's grumbling voice, surprisingly close to where Draco and Hermione hid. Draco stiffed, and Hermione's brain wracked with ideas with what she could say if Filch caught them in such a position, particularly for Draco whose past enabled complications.

There was another meow further down the corridor. "Mmm," Filtch hummed, "I'm hungry too." His laugh was much less sinister and creepy when he thought no one was around. They listened to him shuffle further away. Draco didn't remove his hand from her mouth until he was sure that the caretaker had effectively left the room.

"That was close," Hermione whispered shakily. It was so dark that all she could see was blackness, but she still felt his hot breath against her cheek. His mouth must be mere inches from her; the thought sent a mischievous bubble through her body. She realised that with each inhale she was purposefully letting her chest graze against his front, purely for the split second of electricity that flowed through her as she did it.

"I think he's gone," she murmured.

"I think so too," he breathed back. The dulcet tones of his laugh made Hermione chuckle with him.

"Shall we…?"

"Yes," he replied throatily, and for a moment Hermione was sure Malfoy was going to kiss her, but she felt his presence retreat – right into the vase, which wobbled with a rounded drone and toppled over with a splintering crack and crash.

"Fuck," said Draco, disregarding the whisper. "Run, Granger," he growled, and they both pushed their way out from behind the tapestry and sprinted down the corridor. They tore their way through the castle, breathlessly jumping down two steps at a time, swinging loudly around corners and thumping their feet only to make sure that they made it as far away from the evidence as possible.

They came to a stop at the Grand Staircase, four floors down from where they had begun their rampage through the castle. Both gasping for air, they caught the other's eye, and their fearful faces turned into broad grins. Draco's eyes gave a roguish sparkle as he placed his hands on his hips and laughed, winded. Hermione knew she looked just as happy as him.

"Well I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Granger," Draco said, running his hands through his hair.

"Fuck you; I have to climb back up to the seventh floor!" They both burst out into laughter, and received several groans and hushes from the inhabitants in nearby paintings.

Hermione shook her head and started her ascent back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Goodnight," called Draco. Hermione turned and smiled with a small wave of her hand. Draco nodded back up and like he had done many times before, grinned and slowly licked his lips. It was an image Hermione couldn't erase long after she had settled into her four-poster bed, trying mercilessly to sleep away the time until she got to see Draco again.

* * *

 **Thank you to all of you reading, following and spending the time to write a review! It means a lot. Like a hella lot.**

 **I'm not crying... you are!**

 **I hope you like this Chapter – I thought it was cute.**


	20. Chapter 20

**I hope you all had a Merry Christmas! I tried uploading yesterday but there was an issue with the website! C'est la vie!**

 **Also, I'm updating some chapters for grammar, repetition and spelling's sake because I got some handy reviews about that! Last week I got a Grammarly account especially to fix this, as I am my own editor, so later chapters aren't so bad! I'm not going to change any plot points of course, just making it easier for newer readers.**

 **– Tooxi**

* * *

Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking back up towards the castle after having visited Hagrid during their free period that morning. It was a crisp day, a slight haze enveloped the hills and forests that surrounded Hogwarts, and there they found the perfect view of the lake. A shimmering strobe of pale light reflected off of the water's surface, and the effect was heaven on earth.

"Boys, look." Hermione had stopped and moved to get a better look down to the embankment. There amongst the heather and long grass at the far side of the Great Lake stood a Unicorn taking delicate laps of the water.

The trio stood there, wrapped in their scarves and gloves to protect them from the vicious Autumnal winds of the Scottish Highlands, and looked serenely at the view. From their perch, they could see the memorial statue, and if it weren't for the sheen the sun and the unnatural stillness, it could have been a group of beings hanging out by the water.

Her thoughts drifted Draco and that day she had made her speech. Her memory of that day was that it was startlingly bright and her eye kept catching on Draco and his brilliant white-blond hair.

She had sat next to Draco in Arithmancy that morning, and they had agreed to meet during lunch time when they knew Professor McGonagall would be at lunch.

Guilt filled her rotten stomach when she met Ron's kind eyes. He was the one to suggest they visit Hagrid and Hermione was all for getting some fresh air.

"Mum asked if you guys are coming over for Christmas?" Ron turned to them expectantly. Hermione tore her thoughts away and chastised herself for doing it again. Was there no end?

"Definitely," Harry replied as if it were a silly question, "Grimmauld Place is a little too empty."

"I might stay for a little while – I thought I would take the time to go to Australia," admitted Hermione. Ron smiled dutifully and pulled her in for a one-armed hug.

"You'll find them, 'Mione. Do you want me to come?"

"No, no it's okay," Hermione brushed off his offer half-heartedly. Ron nodded but squeezed her tightly and kissed her on her forehead. A part of her sank inside, but indeed she had just declined his offer, so what she had been expecting she couldn't say.

Hermione glanced at her watch and noticed that lunch would be served in twenty minutes.

"I want to drop my books off before lunch; I'll see you both later?" Hermione strolled off up the hill and felt her abrupt goodbye made it evident that she was up to something. She heard Ron voice concern to Harry and felt a tug in her heart, but they weren't going to follow her.

Hermione made her way up to Gryffindor Tower, voiced the password, and snuck into the boy's dormitory. She had forgotten to ask Harry for the Map and felt especially guilty for summoning it from his trunk. She thought quickly, and accio'd Harry's invisibility cloak too; she would bring it back as soon as she could.

She smiled and sidled past Seamus who had come in from class and was looking confusedly at Hermione's presence. "Lunchtime!" she said excitedly but swiftly left the vicinity, dodging some Fourth Year students on the staircase.

Finally arriving around the corner from the Headmistress's office, Hermione waited the few minutes it took for Draco to meet her.

"Hi," he said breathlessly, his cheeks pink. He gave Hermione a cursory glance.

"Something the matter? Is McGonagall in the Great Hall?"

"Uh, yeah she is," Draco said as he adjusted his collar and tie. She only now noticed Draco's dishevelled appearance, his shirt was untucked and several buttons were undone. "Shall we…?"

Hermione eyed him, "If you're going to fornicate I'd rather you didn't do it right before we have a time-sensitive mission."

"I didn't do anything, Granger," he said huskily, still adjusting his attire.

"Are you sure? Your fly is down."

Draco looked down and indeed saw his fly open, he zipped it up with a smirk and tucked his shirt into his trousers. Hermione scowled at the blond ferret.

"I hadn't planned on getting blown, Granger. It just sort of happens," he said smugly, finally finished with his ministrations.

"It just… happens? Unbelievable," moaned Hermione. "You could have stopped it?" she offered with a tsk, wondering how her life had come to this as she pulled out the Marauder's Map.

"That's just bad manners," said Draco with a smirk. "It often happens, Granger. One of these days I'll have to fend you off me," he chuckled darkly, an amused sparkle in his eye.

"Oh yes, I always dreamt you and I would have a romp in the Charms classroom," she replied with sarcasm. Even with her chiding tone, Draco gave her a cheeky wink.

She tapped the map with her wand and uttered: "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Draco eyed her quickly but dropped his gaze to the parchment that was bare of ink but now had spidery black tendrils crawl across its surface to form the school.

Hermione pointed out McGonagall to him in the Great Hall and also pointed out a few students who were on the same floor as them, heading towards the Grand Staircase.

"Let's go."

They hurried to the Gargoyle, and as Hermione was about to speak the password, Draco stopped her.

"She might have extra protection." He waved his wand. "There's a complex locking charm on her door upstairs that has an alarm system."

Hermione nodded and thanked him for thinking quickly. She spoke the password, and they both stepped on the revolving staircase. They reached the top and Hermione performed a few spells and found a loophole; the door was locked from the outside and not from the inside.

"We need to turn the knob from inside," she relayed to Draco who nodded and sunk to his knees. He pointed his wand under the doorway and conjured a snake that slithered through the crack. They waited a moment apprehensively, checking the map in the meantime. There was a soft click and the door slipped open, Draco pushed it with his fingertips, recalling the snake, which flew back into his wand.

"Neat trick," she commented, unsure how Draco could summon an animal with a high enough intelligence level to perform tasks for its conjurer. "A little predictable…" she added.

"Predictable? I'm never predictable," scoffed Draco.

"Says the guy who comes from Snake House, has a snake tattoo and lived with Evil Snake Man."

Draco paused and narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "Have I ever told you that I didn't like you?"

Hermione scowled up at him. "Wait, Malfoy," she pulled on his arm before he entered the room. She procured the invisibility cloak and threw it over them both.

Draco gave her an approving look and ushered her forward. Their bodies were so close, and Hermione was reminded of the previous night when he had been pressed against her as they hid from Filch. She blushed lightly but turned her attention forward. At least there was room to cover them both; if they had one more person, then their feet would be showing.

The room was eerily quiet without all of the spinning ornaments of Dumbledore lying around. The sun shone brilliantly into the room that it cast beams of light in a beautifully striped arrangement against the walls and floor of the Headmistress's office.

There on the walls were countless Heads of the school sat dozing in their frames. Hermione glanced at Professor Snape whose portrait was so life-like that she could have sworn it was just a window to another room. Dumbledore's portrait hung next to him, and his half-moon spectacles were balanced precariously on the tip of his nose that with every breath Hermione feared they would fall and awaken him.

Draco ushered her forward with a light touch to the small of her back and hurried forth into the room, closing the door behind them. To either side were bookcases, so they chose one end and started looking fervently through the shelves. There was such a vast array of books that Hermione sighed deeply, having to overlook the texts she would have loved to have dived into and read.

There was a chime that startled Hermione, her hand clutching to Draco's arm as her heart thrummed loudly and painfully in her chest.

"What was that?" she whispered.

"Just the clock, Granger. It's just turned One. We have an hour; plenty of time."

Hermione nodded and slowly let go of his arm, but she couldn't help her anxious heart from beating out the tune of impending expulsion.

"I never realised how much more frightening it is to be sneaking around when you don't have death looming at your door. Is that a little strange to think?"

"Yes," said Draco immediately, baffled.

"I suppose the consequences of getting caught are a little different," she supplied with a small hitch in her voice.

"You're worried you'll be, aren't you; ruining your future and any prospect of having a successful career? But you aren't worried about death? You're much more interesting than I thought you were, Granger."

"For one, death is a much easier existence and two, I'll have to live with myself for the rest of my life so I would rather make my time here meaningful."

"So what you're saying is hanging around me gives your life meaning? I see…" Draco smirked as he plucked a book from the shelf.

"Oh shut up, you cad."

"I'm a cad now? Oh my, an upgrade from 'foul, evil, loathsome little cockroach', I need to thank my lucky stars."

Hermione growled quietly up at him. "Let's check the other side." They strode to the other bookcases but came up short again. "I can't see anything that would possibly mention Lucifer," Hermione sighed tersely. "Perhaps I was wrong, and it isn't in a book."

"No, it is," Draco said as he raised his arm to point at a glass cabinet filled with trinkets and baubles, and a leather bound book that had the title Hierarchie of the Blessed Angells written in a faded script.

"Oh," Hermione said, mouth open in the shape of an 'O'.

"You gave up too quickly," Draco said with vehement confidence. Hermione gritted her teeth as she followed him to the cabinet.

"Hang on," Hermione stared at the objects on the shelf that she thought were knick-knacks. There, next to the ancient looking tome was a ring, a diary, a mottled cup, a tiara and a locket; Voldemort's Horcruxes. Hermione's heart raced sharply as her thoughts ran wild.

"Wasn't Potter looking for this…?" Draco peered over Hermione's shoulder at the diadem with burn marks etched on its surface. Hermione tensed as his body touched hers, suddenly no longer a welcoming feeling. Clearly, McGonagall knew what each of these objects was and now that Hermione saw the book on the same shelf…. A shiver ran up her spine.

"No, I don't think so," Hermione lied in a whisper. Was Malfoy looking into Horcruxes? Why were these objects displayed so openly, surely Snape would've removed them to protect Harry's mission from Voldemort? How did the cup, locket and diadem end up in the cabinet? Hadn't the diadem been destroyed in the Fiendfyre?

"Why are they all broken? Look at them; battered into worthlessness." Draco took a closer look, his nose almost touching the glass. "A ring without a stone, a journal with a gaping hole in the middle… Merlin, McGonagall has odd taste, doesn't she?" Draco gave Hermione a confused and lopsided grin.

Does he know what those objects are? He looks genuinely ignorant…

"Shall we open the cabinet?"

"I think Professor McGonagall would know if this went missing," uttered Hermione, a little frightened by the man beside her.

"So? We'll just look at it now; we have half an hour left of Lunch," Draco's eyes twinkled as he looked at the book, considering the significance of the volume. Hermione bit her lip but performed some charms and found the cabinet had a simple locking spell.

"Alohamora," she cast, and the cabinet pinged open, swinging gently forward. She again used her wand to levitate the book not to disturb the other objects. She opened it, and the two of them searched.

Draco inhaled sharply, as they scanned the pages. Hermione shot him a glance, and he immediately stiffened.

"Granger, check the map." She knew it was a dismissal, but Hermione ignored him. He shot her a piercing stare, so she resolutely turned to the map to check if they were still safe to appease him.

Draco scanned the page he had leafed to, finding the text a little illegible to read. He read and read and then Granger's finger appeared out of nowhere and brought his attention to a paragraph:

 _Angells were pure of blood, heart and grace and it was the Creator, God, who had formed such divine, beautiful beings. The Heavens turned bright from their dazzling wings, and so God created Light to shine on earth._

 _An angell often stood afore God and spoke to Him of his beauty and of his perfection. The angell spoke louder than his brothers and sisters and shone with a light that was blinding and painful to God._

 _God turned to the angell and spoke. "Lucifero, your wings shine bright, you sing songs so handsomely, and you are intelligent and full of wisdom. You are very proud; a hubris I have not seen before that separates you from the other angells."_

 _Lucifero stood tall and lifted his wings high, grinning widely as he bowed gracefully. He said, "O' Creator of the heaven and the earth and of the sea! You hath not made a more beautiful being than me! I am adored above others, by Man and their mothers. I speak the wisest of words, am quick on my feet, my wings are supple, and I shall take your seat!"_

 _"My seat?" spoke God, loud and confused. "Why my seat, my boy?"_

 _"I am no boy; I am an angell far greater than thee! So you shall stand, arise from your throne, and there I will take your place, a God I will be!"_

 _"Lucifero, it is your iniquity that I see and your rhyming charm has no power over me."_

 _"Yet you rhyme, and I spend your time. Tell me, is that not power? I think it so; I shall take your dominion and your tower."_

 _"You defy my law; you are pure-blooded but not pure of heart, so I shall cast you to earth. You are no angell, Lucifero!" God cried and lifted Lucifero and thrust him through the clouds to plummet to earth._

 _Lucifero roared in outrage and vowed God would see his revenge. Lucifero cast aside his name, and now Lucifer reigned amuck among Man. Wherever he went, sin prevailed, and Man became corrupt. Lucifer defiled and gambled and tricked. Greed, sadness, anger, jealousy and despair followed him though he remained spirited with his pride._

 _Man was no more a blessing on Earth but a cursed creature that sought to claw, maim, hurt all in their path. Man also cried in grey melancholy, many taking their lives to save themselves from suffering sorrowful defeat. God wept at how easily persuaded Man could be, but He could not catch Lucifer, who danced beyond reach._

 _God searched far and wide and found Lucifer standing afore him on a heath, tired of God's failings. God thundered and commanded Lucifer to rule the Underworld as punishment for defying him so boldly._

 _Lucifer howled in laughter, bowing low to God. He travelled to the Underworld and waded down a braided river to receive the dead. He formed cursed beings who would pluck seraphs from frightened lips as punishment for their depraved thoughts and conducts._

 _God could not stop Lucifer for his power grew great; a master of death, a master of fate._

 _And so here the Hierarchie of the Blessed Angells was founded to rank the pure-blooded and pure of heart with God, the Creator at its peak and Lucifer, the fallen Angell of Death at its base._

"Death," came Hermione's breathless voice. Draco flicked to another page, keen to read more than what he already knew. "Malfoy, this is…" Draco turned to her and saw absolute fear stricken on her face. His heart plummeted.

"Granger?" he gulped down his feelings, feigning ignorance.

"Don't you see it?" her voice was shaking. Draco's masked face didn't relay anything to her and Hermione wondered if he truly didn't understand.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Draco looked at her trembling hands, then to the map and saw the two miniature black footprints heading down the corridor towards the gargoyle statue guarding the Headmistress's office; Minerva McGonagall.

He snapped the book shut and out came a plume of dust. He stuffed it back into the cabinet and shut it with a loud click. He grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her up to the small balcony behind McGonagall's desk, and took her to the far corner to hide beneath the invisibility cloak.

"We forgot to–" Hermione stopped short as Malfoy's hand came over her mouth for a second time in twenty-four hours.

The door eased open with a high squeak and then came the slow but deliberate steps of heels on the flagstone. Hermione's eyes widened as she realised McGonagall was examining her office, having found her door unlocked.

Hermione took a deep breath, but before she could make a move herself to make excuses, Draco pushed away from their little corner and revealed himself. Hermione reached out to tug him back, but he shrugged her off and waved a hand at her to stop her from following. She stiffened in response and bit her lip.

"Professor!" Draco announced, flustered. "I-I'm sorry for coming into your office like this," he said, walking down the short staircase to greet their Headmistress. Hermione followed silently, watching the exchange.

"Yes, indeed. I am quite surprised to see you here as well, Mr Malfoy. You broke into my office," came her sharp, accusatory tone.

"Well I–I" he was stuttering, and Hermione knew he threw himself under the bus without an escape plan. "I broke into your office because I… I wanted to talk to you about something that I feel passionate about but couldn't quite uh… say… until now."

McGonagall arched her brow and looked thoroughly unconvinced. She waited for him to continue.

"I wanted to talk to you about the memorial," his voice was stronger now as he held eye contact.

"The memorial?" McGonagall repeated dully, giving him a derisive glare over her spectacles.

"Yes, well I was particularly upset that the speeches ignored certain groups of people. Some people had no choice but to endure the Dark Lord's ministrations, having been thrust into situations that they had no control over. They were not addressed or even had a moment to speak." He waited momentarily before continuing. "The Dark Lord, uh – He Who Must Not Be Named – tortured and threatened and many had to live in constant fear, without the ability to do anything about it."

"I understand, Mr Malfoy, but that simply is not a good enough excuse to break into my office–"

"–I know what I want to do for my career," Draco blurted out, interrupting the witch in front of him. She pursed her lips but visibly relaxed and gave Draco a small smile as she walked around to her desk and ushered him to sit down.

"I have ten minutes before class begins, Draco," she said sternly, but the use of his given name meant she cared for those ten minutes of open conversation with a struggling student.

"I've been thinking about it, and I'd like to use my skills and business acumen within the field of Law – particularly relating to the impeachment of witches and wizards, and acting for their defence. To present the opportunity for a fair trial by right."

Professor McGonagall leant back in her chair. "Oh, well you've made a good start in exercising the law, just not in precisely the correct manner," McGonagall eyed him with a stern gaze. However, she carried on, "A solicitor? This is a muggle profession."

"Yes, I studied the field during Muggle Studies."

"And this is something you wish to bring forth into the wizarding world?" Draco nodded. "Well," continued McGonagall, "it will take a long time and will be risky to implement such a business into society, I hope you realise this, Draco."

"Professor, if I may be so bold to say: I am in a position of affluence, and although the Malfoy name has been defamed, we still do carry a prestigious reputation. I thought to privatise the business; to gather funding from relevant parties, that is to say, not Ministry owned."

"Have you spoken to Professor Slughorn about this career path?"

Draco shook his head.

"I think you would perform wonderfully in this profession, Draco. Of course, you're still young so will need training. However, it's in your blood. I happened to have begun my first year at Hogwarts when your grandfather, Abraxas, was in his last year; he was renowned for his skills in business, albeit in Potion-making.

Draco nodded and smiled warmly at the headmistress. His grandfather had been stern with him, particularly in making sure Draco was well-educated but he much preferred him to his grandmother.

"You have a strong likeness to him..." mused McGonagall, "but you have gentler eyes."

Draco could feel his cheeks reddening, embarrassed by the compliment.

"Time to get to class, Draco." McGonagall stood, flicking her wand, so a heaping pile of essays floated behind her, and swept towards the door. Draco quickly rushed past her to pull the door open and hold it there for her (and for Granger.)

There was a light ruffling sound of the invisibility cloak flicking and floating around Hermione as she rushed forward, to which Draco coughed to distract McGonagall from hearing it. He held the door open for the briefest moment longer to give Hermione the chance to make her exit, but he still held his breath as he closed the door behind him, hoping she wasn't stuck in the office.

"I shall formulate a meeting with you, Professor Slughorn and myself to see how we can properly guide you to your desired career."

"Yes, thank you," Draco said, distracted.

He made to move forward down the spiral staircase and managed to kick some part of Hermione who happened to be standing on the step below him. Although relief flooded through him, he simultaneously felt a spike of anxiety when Granger hissed, and McGonagall twirled around to scrutinise Draco from below.

Draco coughed throatily again. "I think I'm getting a cold," he supplied apologetically.

Draco felt Hermione's small hand in his as she walked forward, guiding him down without stumbling into her. As soon as they had rounded the corner away in the opposite direction to McGonagall, Hermione pulled off the cloak and let go of Draco's hand, feeling the tiniest resistance. She glanced at him, but there was nothing to discern from his face.

"I wish I had more time with that blasted book," he growled. "It didn't tell us anything about the bloody Sigil! I'll have to have another go at reading it."

"It told me enough," Hermione countered stiffly, crossing her arms defensively. Draco snapped his eyes to her. "Lucifer is no ordinary wizard, is he," she stated rather than asked.

Draco hesitated enough for Hermione to confirm her suspicions.

"Lucifer is Death?" she insisted, her brows furrowing deeply, as she stalked towards him.

Draco cleared his throat and adjusted the cuffs to his shirt, trying to avoid eye contact. "There is a small possibility that the Lucifer in that book is the same man from The Sacred Pureblood Twenty-Eight book that I showed you… but only slight." He spoke as if he were merely talking about delivery of the morning post.

"So you're looking for Death's Sigil? As in, the Grim Reaper. The man who takes lives away and ferries beings beyond the veil?"

Draco smirked down at her, "He isn't real, Granger. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"You're lying to me," she bit. "I can't believe I've been helping your slimy arse," Hermione fumed, her hair was untangling from her curvy grips giving her a wild look. She was poking him in the chest, a firm stab after every word.

"Hermione?" Draco and Hermione turned to the speaker down the corridor. There stood Ginny, her fiery hair like a beacon in front of them. Hermione lowered her hand, to which Draco was thankful for, although he looked apprehensively between the two women.

"So," Ginny said with a pointed look and her hands on her hips, "what's going on here?"

Draco winced when Hermione sighed heavily.

"Malfoy has been lying," Hermione struck out, giving him a dirty look. Draco's heart lurched to his throat. He sneered at her, giving her his best look of loathing.

"Lying?" Ginny interrupted their stare off, clearly uncomfortable.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Draco, "He says that he obtained his marks in Muggle Studies through hard studying," she bit out turning to face Ginny. "When in fact I'm helping him pass the class."

"You didn't do a fucking thing, Granger," he growled.

"Okay, okay. Break it up. You're both late to class, you know?" Ginny pointed at her watch. Draco leered at them both but stalked off down the corridor.

"That was weird," Ginny rolled her eyes at the man's retreat. Hermione hummed in agreement.

"You're late too, Gin."

"Actually, both Harry and I have this period free, so we're just going to…" Ginny waggled her brows at Hermione. "There's an empty classroom if you go through that archway and turn left," Ginny pointed past Hermione. Hermione swore there had never been a corridor there before, but then again, she hardly came to this wing of the castle.

"Please don't tell me you're having sex in a classroom," Hermione whined. "Can't you control yourself and find a more appropriate place?"

"Like?"

Hermione couldn't supply an answer.

"Don't knock it till you try it," the redhead winked, "you'd like it. It's so sexy when neither of you can wait to shag each other senseless."

"I'm sure it's much easier and more sensible to wait. Plus, wouldn't it hurt? There's nowhere to lie down!"

"Oh, Hermione. I love you-you're so cute when you're this naïve!" Ginny scrunched up her nose and pinched her friend's cheeks. "I'll see you later," she said, sauntering off to find Harry. Hermione huffed and marched her way to Ancient Runes class.


	21. Chapter 21

**Happy New Year! Hope you're enjoying it :)**

\- Tooxi

* * *

When Draco arrived late to his Muggle Studies class after having just broken into McGonagall's office, he was immediately called to the front to have his review sheet signed with a tardy and an 'apathetic and rebellious' comment in the Behavioural box. Also thirty points from Slytherin.

Draco decided not to fight the Professor on the matter because it would only reflect more poorly on him. He sat down and kept to the work required of him. It gave him quiet time to think about what Granger had discovered.

It wasn't as if he hadn't expected Lucifer's true identity to crop up at some point, but he wished he had been more prepared. Instead, he had been thinking about how her hand had fit nicely in his as she tugged him along. It had reminded him of the times Pansy would pull on his hand and lead him down a deserted corridor, albeit for entirely different reasons. Some distant voice had prodded him repeatedly when Granger had pulled the cloak off of her, revealing her angry face, pouted lips and the sexy arch of her brow.

Then she had to cross her arms and push her pert breasts up towards him. Her school jumper covered them but it took real willpower to focus on what she was accusing him of and not to grab her and press her hard against the wall.

Then, of course, he had to think about how he could manoeuvre such a conversation that would keep Granger's trust in him, which had failed quite proportionally the more he had revealed.

Was he conspiring to get the Sigil of Lucifer of a man who just so happened to have a likeness to the Devil, Satan, Angel of Death or of that sort of rendering? Yes. Did he genuinely believe that Lucifer was an angel thrown out of the Pearly Gates? No. But he did believe in wizards, and if the Philosopher's Stone existed then so could a time-turning, crazed deviant that happened to have a child with one of his ancestors.

Everything else just did not need to be mentioned! Did Voldemort tell Draco about a super magical seal that when used could syphon souls from beyond the veil and reanimate hollow bodies? Yes. Was that something he should have told Granger? Definitely not; he'd be in Azkaban for the rest of his life, having already avoided that sentence once before.

He realised that he would need to talk to her privately at some point, but he hated to think of what she might say or do. It would be easier for her to turn him in because Draco knew that she was not stupid enough to assume that what he was looking for was innocent.

After dinner, Draco decided to leave the Common Room with the boisterous students carousing on a Friday night and head to the Astronomy Tower for a private smoke.

It was his usual routine when he needed to relax and soothe his anxious heart. If this were to be his last smoke as a free man, then he was going to have it with a view. Right now that was all he needed, something to make him sure again. It was when he had Professor Dumbledore pinned by his wand, asking him to switch sides that Draco decided he was no more a Death Eater than Longbottom's pet toad.

Draco was about to light his second cigarette when he heard the creak of the oak door behind him. He quickly side-stepped behind a pillar to not get caught seemingly spending a quiet moment to reminisce about Dumbledore's death.

Two people had joined him on the Astronomy Tower. He recognised the voice of the girl but couldn't envision her face. Draco resisted the urge to eye-roll when he realised the other person was Potter.

"Have you ever thought of becoming a teacher? You're very good at it," the girl said lightly.

"No, I haven't," replied Potter.

"I'd like it if you taught more, I found your teachings very helpful. I have improved a lot." Draco tilted his head closer to listen, amused that he was out of context.

"Yeah, I might start up again after Christmas. Honestly, though, I'd like to rest for a little while."

"Potter, you sly dog," muttered Draco as he lit and took a drag of his cigarette, imagining that Potter's fame brought on some harem falling at his feet as he 'taught' them.

"Of course," the girl said. "I always find it helpful to lie on one's back with one's feet in the air; I find that my most pertinent decisions come to me when I lie like that."

"I bet," contributed Draco.

"Thanks… I'll try that next time, Luna." Clearly, Potter wasn't having any of it. Draco chastised himself for having forgotten the voice of Luna Lovegood, particularly since she had resided in Malfoy Manor for a good portion of the year. "Do you think…" he had started.

"Yes?"

"Do you think there's anything wrong with Hermione? I'm worried about her. I couldn't find my cloak or my map, and she said she had borrowed them to research their magic, but it's obvious she isn't doing that."

"How can you tell?"

"She's used it as an excuse multiple times before, and it just seems… odd."

"Then perhaps they aren't excuses for anything," Luna replied airily.

Potter paused, still unconvinced of that result. "I think she might be seeing someone other than Ron," he chewed out, uncomfortable with his own thoughts. "She's turned cryptic and sneaky. Ginny said she had found them in a really odd position – I just don't know what to think."

"They? Ginny saw her with someone?"

"Yeah, and it doesn't make any sense if it were true but I can't get this feeling out of my gut."

"I don't think Hermione would cheat on Ron; she's very loyal to her friends. She must have been put in a compromising position."

"It was Malfoy she was with … and they were apparently arguing, but I don't know what about."

"Draco Malfoy? He's quite nice!" chirped Luna. Draco gave a small smirk as he remembered their short conversations when he would bring food to the dungeons for her and Olivander. "He would bring us pumpkin juice and pepper imps with our food, not like that man, Wormtail."

"I don't… I don't think he's a bad bloke," admitted Potter, "I just want to know why they're talking…"

Draco quirked a brow and rolled his eyes. He wasn't a bad bloke but of course, not trustworthy enough for Potter's friend to converse with, whether academically or otherwise.

"That isn't your right to know, Harry. She's an adult and can talk to whomever. If it's important, I'm sure she will tell you. Although, I can tell she has quite a few wrakspurts around her so she must be quite confused at the moment."

"Er-right," hesitated Potter.

Draco stiffened, his cigarette perched between his lips. He had the succinct impression that Potter was going to traverse back to his old ways and stalk his best friend and him. Perhaps Potter was again responsible for Draco's undoing, in a sense.

Again, there was a pregnant pause, and all that could be heard was the rustle of trees and the distant lapping of water, "I think I might turn in… Goodnight, Harry."

Draco heard the creak of the door and the bang as it shut behind Luna Lovegood. He felt warmer from her compliments and thought he would remember to smile at her whenever they passed in the corridor.

"I know you're there, Malfoy."

Draco spluttered as he inhaled too much hot smoke, coughing over his shock. He flicked the almost finished stub over the railing and composed himself.

"Why am I not surprised," he drawled as he emerged from his hiding spot.

"You smoke?"

Draco nodded as he regarded the shorter man in front of him. It was the first time they had spoken since the Battle back in May. Of course, Draco had seen Potter at his trial, but otherwise, he strayed away from the Boy Who Lived Twice.

On closer inspection, he looked tired and weaker than what Draco had remembered. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his scar was a streak across his pale face.

On a whim, Draco pulled the cigarette packet from his breast pocket and offered Potter one. He wasn't sure he was going to accept, but frankly, Draco thought that the guy needed some form of relief. Harry glanced down, pushed his glasses up his nose, and reached over to take one with a nod of thanks.

It took him longer to light it than it should have so Draco knew that this was not something Potter often did. He waited for his initial cough and it came. He smirked but Potter ignored him, trying to keep his eyes from tearing up. They both walked to the edge to look out onto the Forbidden Forest.

"So you heard Luna and me talking," stated Potter.

"I heard you," Draco replied, taking a drag from his new cigarette. He wasn't about to let Potter take control of this conversation and so revelled in his uncomfortable attempt to speak to his arch nemesis.

"You aren't… you're not…"

"No, I'm not snogging Granger, Potter," drawled Draco, a little spirited by the idea of the question but he would never fully admit that to himself, least of all to Potter.

"Good," Harry breathed out, relief flooding through him. "But you're arguing?" he continued.

Draco gave him a sideways glance, noting that Potter was facing him more directly.

"And you're surprised," Draco smirked.

"I'm surprised you talk enough to argue," Harry retorted, clearly not impressed with Draco's answers.

"We're partners in some classes, Potter. Simmer down."

"She's been lying to me about my cloak and my... my map," he ground out.

"Take it up with her; she is an adult after all," Draco echoed Luna's words from earlier. He smirked as he recalled what Granger had said to him the previous day, "Perhaps she'll tell you about how I fuck her on her favourite desk in Charms."

Draco was expecting Harry's reaction and managed to duck in time to dodge the punch aimed at his face. Draco whipped his wand out and pointed it at Harry, who in turn had his own out as well.

Then, unexpectedly perhaps, both men lowered their wands and smiled, woefully aware that their schoolboy fights were quite petty now, since the war.

"Sorry," muttered Draco as he pocketed his wand and took a long inhale.

"S'alright," Harry replied, also tucking his wand away. "Hermione's definitely not seeing you is she?" He said, needing the confirmation.

"Afraid she'll leave the Weasel?"

Harry pursed his lips but didn't reply, preferring to take a hesitant puff. Draco didn't feel the inclination to tell Potter about Granger's tears over her unsupportive and wet boyfriend, so he remained silent too.

"Thanks for defending me at my trial," Draco spoke softly, wanting to change the subject.

"No worries."

"I can't say I deserved it," Draco flicked the excess ash off of his cigarette and decided against finishing it, so he snuffed it out. Harry looked pensively at his own and held it out between his thumb and forefinger as if inspecting it.

"You know… it's not really said but smoking one of these with friends made you look cool. You were the coolest kid on the block if you had a pack of cigs," Harry recalled, remembering Dudley and his friends and the terror they instilled on their peers because they thought they were cool. "People smoke, become addicted, then eventually, when people quit because of bad health and the smell and the symbolism… what's left are the people who had started because their friends had and they're in a loop of wanting to quit because they know it's bad for them but they can't, not yet, not until something pushes them to end it."

"Not sure you can apply that to me," Draco scoffed half-heartedly, "good on you for trying."

"Can't I?"

Draco narrowed his eyes and cleared his throat, again wanting to change the subject lest their conversation was to turn into some sob fest.

"You know what I've always found odd about this place? We couldn't enter the monster-inhabited Forbidden Forest unless on detention in the dead of night, weren't sent home when there was a basilisk petrifying people, held a death tournament with dragons and beasts, and yet–"

"–we needed a permission slip to go to Hogsmeade? Yeah, I found that hard to grasp too."

"Ridiculous," seethed Draco. They shook their heads and quietly acknowledged the other. Draco nodded to Harry before leaving the man to his peaceful thoughts, something he was sure Potter needed.


	22. Chapter 22

**So, a month ago I thought to myself "I can update all the time because I'm miles ahead!" and now I'm thinking "If I leave it a few days, hopefully I can buy me some time to write freakin' chapter 28, which is causing me strife because I want to write this one thing in entirely different tones each time I think about it! Have you ever seen on YouTube those videos trailers of films where each time they show the trailer it's edited for a different genre? 1) Romance 2) Action 3) Horror 4) Comedy etc. to show the power of editing? Yeah. I'm at that stage.**

 **Don't worry, the story is still mapped out quite nicely AFTER that but like goddamn, brain. Give a lady a break!**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter – I enjoyed writing it (and editing it...)!**

 **I'm also dilly dallying with a second and much much darker fic than this one but no promises because there isn't a story as of yet.**

 **Leave a review of your thoughts!**

 **– Tooxi**

* * *

Draco awoke with a start having awakened from a nightmare about Granger tossing vividly in a pool of her own blood as he watched, willing his feet to move but weights were holding him down. His heart hammered painfully in his chest, and a cold sweat clung to his skin. His pyjamas and bedding were moist.

He reached through his curtains to feel for the goblet of water on his bedside table and gulped down the icy liquid to sooth his scratchy throat. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and noted that it was still dark outside. He tore back the curtains and crept past his dorm mates to take a much-needed shower to calm his nerves.

He welcomed the heat of the water and revelled at the pummelling effect it had on his aching shoulders. What had possessed him to dream of that curly-haired Gryffindor for a second time that week? He imagined it was the conversation he had had with Potter in the Astronomy Tower that did it.

The dream had felt real enough that he could still hear the bitter cackle of his aunt as Granger cried and writhed in pain from the torture. Draco had pleaded with his aunt, he shouted at her to stop, to spare the girl, for Merlin's sake couldn't she see Granger didn't know anything? He tried to reach her, to pull her away from his aunt. Then as suddenly as her screams sounded, they had stopped.

Draco crouched in the shower; his head bowed as he tried to squeeze the memory out of his mind till he couldn't tell his tears from the water.

* * *

Hermione found herself stirring awake to the scent of Ron and warm sunlight warming her face. She had slept in the boy's dormitory again, as she often did when she was anxious to fall asleep. She felt Ron's hands caress her cheek and the wet kiss he planted on her temple.

"Morning," he whispered, holding her tightly in his arms. Hermione sighed happily and snuggled further back into his embrace, muttering her own "good morning."

Ron nuzzled her hair, and Hermione felt her pulse flutter. Was this going to be the day?

"Where are the others?" she whispered breathlessly.

"Don't worry, they've already gone down for breakfast," Ron said, placing thick kisses on her shoulder. Hermione could feel him on her bum, and she felt a small thrill of excitement run through her. Hermione ground into him lightly, and his hand crept hesitantly to her breasts. She turned to capture his lips and was shyly aware that they both had morning breath. She reached out to pick up her wand to lock and silence the room.

Ron pulled her underneath him, pressing his body heavily into hers. Hermione felt a little uncomfortable by his weight, finding it hard to breathe. She pushed on his shoulders, and he immediately let up.

"No? I'm sorry Hermione – I thought you were ready."

"No!" Ron blanched but nodded, to which Hermione immediately cursed her mistake. She held onto his face. "I mean: no, I am ready. You were just crushing my lungs."

"Oh," Ron blushed hard but dipped his head down to give her a tentative kiss. Hermione tried to further the kiss, but Ron had pulled away to shuffle awkwardly to lift the hem of her pyjama. Hermione bit her lip, a little apprehensive. What if she didn't like it? Was this the right time?

"Ron, kiss me," she sighed gently, lifting her stomach to his face but Ron tore his gaze from her taut belly and moved back up to kiss her mouth. His hand rested on her breast, neither kneading nor rubbing the way Hermione craved.

She wove her fingers through his hair and pulled his head to the side to kiss his neck, but he resisted, not understanding her intentions. "I want to kiss you, Ron," she explained.

"Oh," he replied, letting her place kisses on his neck but Hermione found herself far too conscious of the situation, her kisses becoming mechanic. He ground into her, and although it felt pleasant, Hermione found she had to concentrate to feel that pleasure, otherwise she felt like she could lie there motionless and not feel a thing.

She pushed on his shoulder and rolled on top of him, adjusting her position, needing to ask him to move to the centre of the bed so that her legs could fit either side of him without one leg dropping over the edge. She tugged his t-shirt up and stroked the red trail of hair she found at the hem of his trousers. Ron began to laugh.

"What? What did I do?" Hermione asked, perplexed.

"Nothing!" Ron tried to control his face. Hermione touched him again, and again he laughed and flinched away from her touch.

"What is it? What am I doing wrong?"

"It's just so ticklish when you do that!" he thundered, finding the moment more humorous than Hermione felt. Hermione had only placed her hands on either side of his torso.

Suddenly, Hermione didn't quite feel so confident in furthering the experience. She rolled off of him and jumped out of bed.

"Where you going?" he called.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I'm not sure today is a good day; you're finding everything comical a-and I need to finish my essays today."

"Your essays? Hermione, I only found it ticklish when you touched me here," he pointed at his hips.

"Yes, well, it's embarrassing when you laugh at me when I'm trying to make you feel good!"

"I'm not laughing at you!"

"I'll see you at breakfast, Ron." Hermione picked up her wand and hurriedly removed herself from the boy's dormitory.

* * *

"You were arguing about homework?" Ginny gave Hermione a sceptical look.

"Well, Malfoy has to take Muggle Studies, and he asked me for my help."

"So he's helping you with Arithmancy, and you're helping him with Muggle Studies? I find that unlikely – surely he wouldn't want to tarnish his name by asking a Muggleborn for help?"

"You can ask him if you don't believe me," assured Hermione as she flicked through the pages of that morning's Daily Prophet.

"I trust you, 'Mione. But him? It seems a bit fishy especially after what happened at his house."

Hermione nodded solemnly, reaching for her arm but remembering not to irritate the skin there in case she bled again. Hermione hated the fact that she was lying to Ginny and Harry and she couldn't get past that something was stopping her from telling them what Draco was looking for. Especially when she had just found out that Lucifer was likely to be Death incarnate.

"He is quite swinish," Hermione tittered, "but it's only so he can pass his N.E.W.T.S and a shot at redemption. He did save our lives back in that manor house."

"Yes, alright. Arguing with you, though… He's got another thing coming to him if he thinks he could win an argument."

"Who's arguing with who?" Parvati chimed in, sliding into the seat next to Hermione.

"This is a late breakfast for you," stated Hermione when she checked her watch; it was close to eleven.

"Hermione here is having little tiffs with Malfoy," Ginny raised her brows naughtily.

"Granger! You saucy minx!"

"Okay ladies, I am with Ron if anyone had forgotten," Hermione pointed out, feeling very much in the hot seat.

"Again, I wouldn't blame you," Ginny sipped her juice with a surreptitious glint in her eye. Hermione shook her head at Ginny, surprised by her candidness.

"I'll tell you though, those Slytherins don't hold back," Parvati smiled cheekily.

"No! You didn't!" Ginny gasped.

"Did what?" asked Hermione, glancing at both girls.

"I did, and it was fantastic! Absolutely splendid, I would recommend it to anyone," Parvati roared out in laughter as she flicked her long silky black hair off of her shoulder. Ginny squeaked and fluttered her hand out.

"What am I missing?"

"Hermione, this is your fault for not listening to me last week! Remember when we were in Defence class? Well, I happened to have a little… tiff," Parvati winked at Hermione, "with Blaise Zabini. And my, oh my, I have been converted," Parvati gave a glittering smile as both girls spluttered and giggled. "Honestly, girls. Forget your white chocolate because this brown girl is all for that dark goodness."

"You slept with him?" Hermione said with wide eyes.

"Of course! I've only just had a crush on him since Fourth Year. Unfortunately, I had to go to the Yule Ball with Harry, no offence Ginny," Parvati touched Ginny's arm to assure her, "but Blaise, ooh," she bit her lip. "He asked me to Pansy's birthday party tonight, and I'm thinking about it… I mean I hate the bitch but…"

"There's a party?"

"Hermione, don't do your whole 'I'm-Head-Girl' act on this. It's perfectly alright to have parties, particularly when you're of age and really want to see the guy who is fantastic in bed."

"I wasn't going to say anything!" Hermione fumed focussing back to her paper.

"Really? I heard Astoria was making a fuss about you interrupting her and Malfoy mid-snog a while back when there was a party on," continued Parvati

"Malfoy? Again?"

"Look it's not like that! I heard there was a party while I was on patrol and I happened to be near the Dungeons…" Hermione tried to rescue herself.

"Do I have to tell Ron you're pining after ferret boy?" sniggered Ginny.

"No! It's not – Oh Ginevra Molly Weasley, I will hex you so far," she threatened the redhead. "Where are the boys, anyway?"

"They should be starting quidditch practice – I should get down there soon," Ginny said glancing at her wristwatch.

"It almost sounded like you were jealous of Astoria and Malfoy," teased Parvati, continuing on with the conversation. "Is that what your argument was about?"

Hermione spluttered. How could she get a word in edgeways with these two girls teasing her constantly? Trickier still, was appearing nonchalant when either of them mentioned Draco and her jealousy! She wasn't jealous at all... not at all! Not even a little bit. Couldn't be further from being jealous about that little blond, arrogant cockro–"

"Jealous, Granger?" came the deep lilted voice of Draco Malfoy. Hermione's inner monologue swore so loudly she feared someone had her. Draco was standing behind her, but she would recognise his voice anywhere now. She turned to face him and gave him a sinful scowl, to which he only smirked down at her. Hermione felt heat rise to her cheeks when he seemed unaffected by her.

"I see you've come to apologise," she said a little snootily.

"No, actually, I haven't."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I came to extend the invitation to Pansy's party tonight – inter-house unity and all that jazz."

"Like I would say yes to you, Malfoy," seethed Hermione.

"You've got it wrong again," he smirked. "Patil – I know you're already coming, what about you, Weasley?"

"Uhm," Ginny hesitated, "who else is going to be there?"

"I already spoke to Potty and his boyfriend; they're coming. Lovegood too, I believe… a few from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw."

"Harry and Ron are going?" Hermione turned in her seat to look up at him again, his grey eyes glistening in amusement, his crooked smile growing cheekily. Hermione realised, with a heated blush, that he was standing close enough that his crotch became a prominent feature today.

"Potter and I have an understanding," was all he supplied. "How about it ladies? Think you can come tonight? Bring Longbottom; he's grown a pair since we last spoke."

"Well, yeah. I suppose it could be fun," Ginny smiled up at him.

"Ginny," hissed Hermione.

Ginny shrugged, "You said we should be more tolerant of each other! This is what I'm doing."

"Terrific," Draco said with a clap. Hermione turned to the front again, a little hurt. She felt his hand on her back. "I'll see you two tonight, then."

"Oh how clever, Malfoy," she muttered.

"Pardon?" he asked despite having heard her perfectly.

"So you're inviting all of my friends except for me?"

Draco leant down close to her ear, pulled back her bra strap and simply said, "Yep," before pinging it into her skin, annoyingly unclasping it in the process. He strolled back to the Slytherin table, joining a laughing Theo and a blushing Blaise. Hermione stood up abruptly, scowling at the back of his blond head.

"Oh, what an arse," she sat down slowly, adjusting her bra.

"Did he just?" Ginny asked, impressed.

"Oh shush!"

* * *

When Ginny had gone to Quidditch practice, Parvati and Hermione decided to have a walk through the grounds. Once back, Parvati said she would have a long bath to relax in, asking Hermione for the Prefect's password to the luxurious bathroom.

Hermione took a small sandwich for lunch and thought to herself she would have a beautiful view atop the Astronomy Tower to eat and think. Upon arrival, however, she found Draco standing on the balcony with a cigarette between his teeth.

"Oh, you're here," she said grudgingly, as she closed the door behind her and walked to the opposite side of the tower. Draco turned around, surprised to see her.

"Are you and Potter checking up on me on that map?"

"No. It's more like you're an irritating fly that won't just buzz off."

"Let's be honest here, Granger. We both know without a shadow of a doubt that you find me exceptionally handsome and have been longing to see me again," he said sauntering over to her.

"I think you must have me confused with a girl with far fewer standards and of a lower intellect than me," she toyed back. Draco clucked his tongue and narrowed his eyes, taking a drag from his cigarette; he puffed the smoke out and above her head, his grey eyes never leaving hers.

"Is that so?" he said leaning forward to grasp the railings either side of her. Hermione leaned back slightly but stood her ground, trying to ignore his attempt at intimidating her and failing miserably, when she felt a blush creep to her cheeks. His scent was wonderful, and Hermione breathed deeply to take it all in; she moaned lightly on the exhale, with the idea that Draco would surely step back.

All that did was draw his attention to her mouth, and Hermione felt her heart flutter rapidly in her chest, a small pang of ecstasy ran through her body. ' _Why, Hermione. Why?_ ' she thought irately to herself. He dragged his gaze slowly up her face to look back into her chocolate eyes; he smirked as he took another puff.

Hermione dropped her sandwich and it landed with a wet slap on the wood. She cursed her fumbling fingers and made to clear it up, but Draco didn't release her from his self-made cage, so she stood there taking in the smug lines of his handsome face. ' _Handsome_?' her mind reeled.

"We need to talk about what we found out," she whispered, sounding rather breathless. Draco nodded. "Did you know that Lucifer could be Death?"

"Yes and no," he replied, standing a little straighter, forcing Hermione to press her body into the railing a little more. "I thought Death was part of a children's story but you don't, do you?"

"Well, I was a muggle who became a witch. Funnily enough, I'm starting to believe anything is possible at this point."

Draco commended that with a nod. "I got the impression you know a little more about Death than you had let on."

Hermione hesitated, "You are correct." If Draco were interested in Death's Sigil, then surely he knew about the Deathly Hallows, and if that were the case, then did he also know Voldemort's involvement? Was Voldemort involved in Draco's plans?

He couldn't have been because Voldemort didn't believe in the other Hallows; he was only interested in the Elder Wand.

"What do you know of the Deathly Hallows?" she asked, her voice betraying her flustered state. Draco leaned back but remained close to her.

"The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone and the Cloak of Invisibility," he recited. "From the look on your face, I'm guessing that they exist."

"They do… they are objects to master Death," Hermione stared intensely into his eyes, trying to uncover his secrets but his stony face disclosed nothing of his mind. Did he know that he had once been the master of the Elder Wand?

"I'm not looking for them, Granger, you know that."

"Then why do you need the Sigil?" she asked for the what felt like the hundredth time. "I'll be honest, a symbol of Lucifer that could potentially do ungodly things mightn't be something to be taken lightly. Why do you want it, Draco?"

Draco's eyes flickered between hers. Hearing her say his given name for the first time stirred something within him …

"You can trust me," he murmured. Hermione took a small breath and held, her mind warring with her gut. She straightened up, fixed her jumper, avoided his eye and pushed past him to walk down the spiral staircase.

"Granger," he called. She turned, chewing on her lip as she waited for him to continue. "Come tonight," he said.

"Why?"

"I'd like it if you came," Draco said boldly. Hermione nodded then left him to his now unlit cigarette.


	23. Chapter 23

**Long time, no update! Sorry guys... I took a break to read some Dramione for myself! That New Year's Resolution of reading more books is going well...**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter.. Leave a comment!**

 **– Tooxi**

* * *

"Oh," said Pansy as she held up a slender silver bracelet from the boutique in Diagon Alley that she often frequented. Her lips pursed a little as it dangled from side to side, "did it come in another colour?"

"Colours that came without diamonds," drawled Blaise, his eyes roaming towards his friends who sniggered into their shoulders.

"Mm," she hummed, placing the chain back into the navy velvet box and putting it aside. "Thank you, Blaise. I love it." She blinked sweetly at her dark friend and gave him two kisses on his cheeks. She then held out her hands for the next gift from Daphne.

"You'd think after all these years we'd know what to get her," murmured Theo as he took a swig of butterbeer. It was a Saturday evening, not long before the party would be in full swing for Pansy's nineteenth birthday.

"You could take a whole year to decide what to buy her, but she won't like it," replied Astoria as they watched Pansy unfurl a silk shawl, which wasn't a warm enough yellow for her.

Draco placed his arm around Astoria's waist and chuckled as he took a swig of his beer. "Wait till you see what I got her, she'd love it even if it were dragon dung."

Pansy was just putting in some dangling earrings from Millicent, which she surprisingly liked as she conjured a mirror to preen herself. She gave a dazzling smile as she took the parchment from Draco, bashing her eyelashes at him.

"Oh, Drake!" She squealed, leaping up from the couch and swinging her arms around Draco's neck, effectively pushing Astoria aside. "A skiing trip to the Alps? A chalet booked for Christmas? Oh, how wonderful, thank you so much, darling," she leaned back to kiss Draco on the lips, which he narrowly avoided. Pansy was unperturbed.

"It's for all of you," gestured Draco, "to friends." He raised his butterbeer which everyone did too, now happily cheering for Pansy's birthday and to Draco's generosity.

"We best go and get the food and drinks," motioned Theo to Draco and Blaise, who happily obliged as the rest of the group swooned over the luxury holiday package Pansy received. Astoria swigged the last of her drink and slumped on the couch.

The three men walked through the castle towards the kitchens, tickling the pear on the painting and edging their way inside. Hundreds of house elves greeted and adorned them with cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties, even though they were washing the dinner plates.

They collected their spoils: Black Cat Potato Crisps, popcorn, doughnuts, exploding bonbons, mince pies, Fudge Flies, Bertie Botts, Flaming Fancies, sugar mice. For drinks was the required Ogden's Old Firewhiskey, rum, Guinness, Knotgrass Mead, Bungbarrel Spiced Mead, Pinnock's Giggle Water, tequila and vodka.

They each had bags filled ready to be consumed by the entire Slytherin populace at Hogwarts. They said goodbye to the house elves and thanked them for their assistance, leaving the kitchen in high-spirits.

As they arrived back, they found a number of their fellow students from various houses wandering down the corridor. Draco quickly looked through the group, noting that they were mostly Hufflepuffs and a couple from Ravenclaw. He wondered when the Gryffindors would arrive.

"Right this way, right this way," Theo called, bringing attention to him as he marched up front to the common room wall and enunciated the password, "Sanguis Draconis."

The group shuffled through the archway, and soon drinks were floating around, decorations erected and food distributed on silver platters. After a few drinks, people started dancing on the mock dancefloor the Slytherins had created. Draco took a sip of some whiskey and remembered that he hadn't told others about the password, so he went out of the Common Room to find a group of mulling students.

"Malfoy," called Potter from the back, "what gives – you never told us the password."

"Ah Potty, you've arrived!" Draco clapped his hands eagerly. Potter and his crew stood slightly back, a little worried. "The password is 'Sanguis Draconis', grab yourself some drinks, Merlin knows you need them!"

"Patil, you're looking ravishing; Blaise has been panting for you all day over in that corner like a loser, Weaslette I'd rather you didn't grind on Pothead all night but if you must, try not to leave any more scars on his head – it's getting rather big. Weasel, did you dye your hair?" Draco scrunched his face at Ron.

"No," he lumbered.

"Oh I wish you would," Draco commented. Ron scowled at Draco but walked through the archway. "Longbottom, smile for Merlin's sake boy, we're not going to hurt you," grinned Draco when he patted Neville's back as he moved past Draco to the Common Room.

"Lovely Luna," Draco nodded. Luna smiled in return. Dean and Seamus shuffled past, nodding their hellos. There were some more Ravenclaws behind them and a couple of Hufflepuffs. Cormac McLaggen came strutting down the corridor like the ponce he is, Draco leered at him but said nothing. The turnout was rather good, and he knew Pansy would be pleased he, Theo, Blaise, Astoria and Daphne had procured such an amount of students to come.

But where was Granger?

Draco waited until the last lot had entered the Common Room, waiting for a few minutes to look down the deserted corridor in preparation for Granger to turn the corner and to let her into the party.

She wasn't coming...

Draco cleared his throat and turned to the wall to speak the password. As the archway materialised again, he heard the voices of two girls down along the corridor.

With a flutter in his chest, Draco quickly positioned himself as if he were exiting the party and pulled his cigarette pack out of his breast pocket. There at the top of the corridor came Padma Patil and Granger and for the life of him, had Draco not been already stationary he would have frozen mid-walk if he had spotted her then.

She was simply wearing a short-sleeved, black dress with matching heels that showed off her impressive pair of legs. Her cleavage was neatly out of sight, her red lip drawing Draco's eyes to her smile. Her hair was spun in a messy bun, with a couple of tendrils framing her face. If Draco were on a date with a girl, he'd hope she looked half as sexy as Granger did then. One word sprung to mind as she and Padma approached; class. She was laughing at something Padma had said, and Draco listened to the trill eagerly.

"Oh good! Malfoy, you're here – we thought we would be stuck outside guessing the password all night," Hermione said some little ways away, her smile brilliantly wide. Had she ever smiled at him like that, full of happiness and without care?

"You've caught me heading out for a smoke," he replied, not sure how he should act so as not to appear so blatantly that he was staring.

"Alright," she gave him an odd look, "can you tell us the password?"

"For what?"

"To get in," she laughed, her brows furrowing.

"To get in?" he responded dumbly.

"To the party," supplied Padma, who had started to laugh at his peculiarity.

"Oh! Yes, right. The party…" Draco cleared his throat, turned around and said, "Sanguis Draconis."

"Thanks," said Hermione, placing her hand briefly on his arm as she and Padma walked forward. "I've never seen you this flustered, Malfoy."

"Flustered, me? Hah! I was just surprised you even turned up! I thought you would have your nose in some book, possibly wallowing away in bed–"

"–Aren't you going for a smoke," she interrupted as if she hadn't been listening to him. She was pointing at the unlit cigarette in his hand. Draco had attempted to follow them back into the Common Room, and her question caught him off guard.

"Oh, yeah. I was. I am," he directed with his thumb back towards the corridor. "I'll see you in five." Draco stalked down the hall and cursed himself for acting like such an idiot, also realising that he would need to hang around for five or so minutes to pretend as if he had gone out for a smoke. He groaned as he remembered McFaggin had entered the party not long before Granger had.

"She's also with the Weasel, you dunce," he muttered under his breath.

* * *

Hermione gasped as they entered the large room. In front of her was a sizeable and ornately carved stone fireplace flanked by iron sconces with roaring flames flickering up. Above the mantelpiece was the Slytherin coat of arms, a silver serpent rearing its head up with a long, slithering hiss.

Deep alcoves with glass walls dotted the corners of the room, a green-blue hazed light emitting from them. Similarly, Hermione looked up to see light streaming down through glittering skylights, creating shimmering and wavering patterns back and forth through the gaps. Now and then a fish swam past, flicking its silver fins through the seaweed that danced in the water.

Hermione understood that the Slytherin Common Room was underneath the lake, but she did not expect it to be so beautiful and cosy. The couches and rugs warmed the room, alongside the many bookcases that lined the walls. Music blared out of somewhere unknown, and a few people had decided to dance. Several of her friends stood in various spots around the room. Slytherins also gathered in small groups, but the largest was sitting by the fire.

Theo gestured for Hermione to come over to him. Bottles of alcohol were floating and weaving between guests, pouring their contents into crystal glasses that elegantly swirled to each person. One flew Hermione's way, and she caught it, in fear that it would fly right through her knowing she wasn't entirely welcome.

"Cheers, Granger," said Draco, who had appeared by her shoulder. She thought that he had been quick on his smoke break but otherwise smiled at him. He didn't smell of smoke, but rather his usual cologne, which tipped her stomach into a little flutter. Draco held out his glass and clinked it with hers before he drank it like a shot and walked off to join his friends by the fire.

Hermione made her way over to Theo, feeling out of place joining the group and the party girl, but also the need to say hello.

"–so I said to her that she could have her moment, but her fiancé had blatantly flirted with me, he was practically eating my neck!" Daphne howled with laughter as she retold a story. "It's her own fault she chose Marcus as her future husband."

"Didn't you used to date?" asked Goyle.

"Well, he was only interesting to have around during the Yule Ball because he brought in all that alcohol, remember? Otherwise, he was pretty stupid; I'm surprised he wasn't held back several more years. Sprout yelled at me for bringing an older guy to the dance, little did she know his mental age was twelve." The group sniggered.

"Right I think it's time to say 'cheers' to the birthday girl," called Theo and he held up his glass. Hermione came up behind him, waiting to say congratulations to Pansy herself but as the group raised their glasses and drank, Pansy spluttered her drink when her eyes landed on Hermione, standing there with a full glass of whiskey in her hand.

"Oh, goodness. Granger," Pansy looked at her friends, a bemused expression on her face. "What on earth brought you here?" Hermione could hear the sneer and malefic tone in her voice.

"Happy birthday, Pansy," said Hermione with a slight smile, she felt a slow burn up her neck as all eyes turned towards her. Pansy regarded her with her large, buggy eyes as she waited for an explanation. "Draco invited me," she pointed gingerly to him.

Thinking quickly, she pulled out her wand (some drew back in suspicion) and conjured a bouquet of flowers. Hermione offered them to Pansy.

"Pansies?" she scoffed. Pansy held up the gold and purple bunch and gave them a tentative sniff.

"You suit yellow," said Hermione genuinely, "a warm yellow, that is."

"Yes, warm," Pansy said slowly, turning her gaze to Daphne who stood next to her, blushing and avoiding her eye. "Put these in a vase, Blaise, would you," she asked without really asking. Blaise rolled his eyes but waved his wand, procuring a glass vase to put the flowers in.

Pansy turned her attention to Astoria and began talking loudly about how "some people are quite useless."

"Thanks, Granger," Daphne bit out as she stormed past Hermione, banging hard on her shoulder.

"Okay…" commented Hermione as she rubbed her side. Theo grinned at her.

"Making friends already, Hermione?"

"Not sure that I am," she looked around noticing the sly looks from other groups of Slytherins as they took notice of her.

"I'm your friend!" Theo said, holding his hand to his heart as if hurt. Hermione smirked but took a sip of her firewhiskey. "Oh come on, Hermione! Toss it down – there we go."

The sting of the drink caught in her throat and she coughed into her hand.

"You know you look quite tempting tonight," Theo eyed her, "even when your spluttering like a little kitten."

Hermione nudged him with her elbow and waited for her glass to be filled up again by the magical waiters. It wasn't long after when drinks were passed around left, right and centre that Hermione started to feel tipsy.

"Hello Hermione," lulled Luna who had a dreamy twinkle in her eye. She was wearing a pale blue frock that made her look ethereal with her long, blonde, tousled hair. She held aloft a butterbeer to which Hermione accepted. "It was extremely nice for Draco to invite us. Everyone here has been friendly."

"Except for the birthday girl and her friend," Hermione said with tight lips. Luna nodded but frowned at the curly-haired witch beside her. "Daphne keeps knocking into me when we pass each other."

"Who's Daphne?" asked Luna. Hermione turned to search the room and pointed to the tall, slender girl talking to Zacharias Smith. "Oh, she's the one that dated Marcus Flint." Hermione scrunched her brow, amused that Luna knew that piece of gossip.

Hermione spotted Ginny and motioned her over. Ginny had lent her the black dress she had on because Hermione would not stop complimenting her wardrobe style. She wore red stilettos, skinny black trousers and a white and red off-the-shoulder t-shirt of her favourite band; The Weird Sisters.

"How great is this party? I never knew the Slytherins could get down like this," Ginny crooned with a cheeky shake of her bum, bending through her knees. "I just saw Blaise and Parvati making out by the loos, completely out of control," she laughed. "And! Guess who's getting it on with Hannah Abbott?"

"Neville," Luna said firmly. Ginny nodded eagerly, indicating which corner Neville and Hannah had occupied.

"What?!" exclaimed Hermione, "How am I the last to know about everything?"

"Because you're always in the Library and completely shut off from the world! Might I just add – Hermione you are looking smoking in that dress; I did a fabulous job," sang Ginny. She grabbed Hermione's hand and gave her a twirl. The girls laughed as three shots of tequila floated into their hands. They took them, and Hermione felt much more adventurous than before.

"Draco keeps looking at you, Hermione," Luna pointed out, gesturing with her finger despite having a glass in her hand. Hermione refrained from looking, choosing a subtler approach.

"If I weren't with Harry…"

"Ginny!"

"What? He's like forbidden fruit – I mean just look at him."

Hermione bit her lip wishing it weren't so obvious that they were talking about Draco, but if she hadn't of turned, Ginny would've seen right through her. Hermione was relieved that when she looked, Draco was paying attention to Theo and Astoria Greengrass, cracking a joke that made them roar with laughter.

Unfortunately, looking meant that Hermione was privy to Draco slinking his arm Astoria's waist. As he took a swig of his beer, his eyes darted to where Hermione stood, but she had already turned her head away, a searing hot burn on her cheeks. Hermione excused herself from Ginny and Luna to make her way to the bathroom.

"Is everything okay with Ron?" asked Luna.

"I think so. Why?" said Ginny who was eye-fucking Harry as he winked at her from across the room.

"I noticed he's been quite peevish today," she leaned in to whisper. They both turned to find Ron at the back of the group, struggling to gain as much enjoyment as the others in their conversation.

"He said Hermione was acting strange, at practice today – I think they might have argued over universities or something? I don't know; he doesn't say much. We'll ask Hermione when she gets back."

Hermione made her way to the Slytherin bathrooms and found the room adorned with silver taps and marble countertops; nothing but the best for Salazar Slytherin's golden students. Hermione washed her hands and pinched her cheeks, checking herself in the mirror.

She couldn't understand it – she had seen Draco with Astoria before and in much more of a compromising position. Why did it feel like a stone had dropped in her stomach, it was an entirely unreasonable reaction to have! She didn't even like Draco! Plus, she was with Ron.

Ron.

Hermione sighed, realising she would need to talk to Ron at some point about that morning. Or perhaps she didn't need to… With that resounding thought, Hermione made to exit only to find herself facing Daphne and Pansy in the doorway who were arguing.

"Daph, you are ruining my night I don't give a flying fuck about that know-it-all so leave it be–" Pansy hissed at her friend just as they bumped into Hermione. "Oh, Granger!"

Hermione smiled, not unkindly but not sincerely either. Daphne tutted at her as the door opened behind them. In came Astoria, the skin around her mouth was flushed red indicating she had a recent battle with her lips. The newcomers now blocked Hermione from leaving the toilets.

"That's an incredibly short dress for you, Granger. I thought you were a prude, not a hussy," leered Daphne as she brushed past to adjust her silky hair in the mirror.

"I think you look stunning in it," said Astoria, to Hermione's annoyance.

"Thanks, Astoria," acknowledged Hermione, "Ginny lent it to me."

"Weasely? Gosh, where did she get the money to buy that sort of dress? Leeching off her famous boyfriend, I see."

Hermione scowled at Astoria's older sister. Why couldn't Draco date that cow? It was much easier to dislike her. ' _Oh gods, Hermione,_ ' she chastised herself.

"You know… you're not half bad looking when you've cleaned up," said Pansy as she scrutinised Hermione. "I'm thinking of starting a clothing range for modern witches; perhaps I could fit you in for a casting."

"A casting?" exclaimed Hermione, eyes wide.

"Well, we'll see. I haven't decided whether I like you or not," ridiculed Pansy, who turned pompously to preen herself in the ornate silver set mirror.

"Great," replied Hermione sarcastically, deciding to make her exit. She felt a small hand on her arm and saw Astoria was holding her kindly with an apologetic smile on her lips. ' _Why are you so nice?_ ' she seethed inwardly, ' _and pretty with that long black hair?_ '

Hermione returned to the party in a much less savoury mood and spotted Ginny now engaged with Harry and Luna out of sight entirely. Ron was leaning against a wall looking bored and disinterested, shooting back a firewhiskey.

Feeling much more courageous than that morning and with a frustrated and riled up energy running through her blood, Hermione decided to saunter over to Ron with her best sexy and enticing act.

"Hey Ron," she murmured against his mouth, capturing his lips with a small bite. But like that morning Ron wasn't reacting quite like how she would have hoped. He tasted a lot like whiskey, and she wondered if he could feel her lips. His hands rested neatly on her hips as he kissed her back but it was sloppy and lacked passion. No matter, they would work on it.

"Hey," he replied back, a goofy grin on his lips. "What was that for?"

"I thought I would make up for this morning," she said, nipping at his neck. The alcohol was warming her system, and she liked the flirty mood she was in so Hermione tried to discreetly let Ron know that she was ready for more fun.

"'Mione!" Ron blushed hard, his neck and face turning quite red as she felt him through his trousers. "Why are you so forward all of a sudden?"

"I guess the drink is giving me liquid confidence," she laughed, kissing him again.

"Ron, Hermione," called Harry. He had two shots of tequila or vodka in his hand and gave them to his friends. They took the drinks and swallowed them quickly with pinched noses.

Soon everyone was dancing to the music, which got louder. The room was darker with only the green tints of the water illuminating the space. An hour must have passed before Hermione squeezed through the crowd to find the toilet once more. Once she had relieved herself, reapplied her lipstick and adjusted her hair a little Hermione was ready to dance with her friends some more.

It was quite dark now, and Hermione could barely see where everyone had gone. She was quite tipsy but she managed to find Harry and Ginny making out by an alcove, and Parvati and Blaise were off to the side whispering and touching each other. Hermione bumped into Seamus who was pissed off his rocker. He took hold of Hermione and danced a jig with her, and soon they were both teetering into laughter. He twirled her and danced merrily to the other side of the room before he let her go, to dance with another witch.

Daphne Greengrass was shouting into Goyle's ear, who winced with each syllable she spoke. Pansy was dancing in a circle of whooping Slytherins and Ravenclaws around her. Hermione was unable to find Ron anywhere, having asked Dean if he had seen him and he replied that Ron had vomited and left with Neville. Hermione felt guilty for not wanting to follow and find him but she was certain he could handle a little bit of sick.

Hermione moved further into the dance floor, feeling the full effects of alcohol when she realised she didn't recognise any of the people close to her. The shadowed faces in the emerald light made quick work of Hermione's inhibitions. She felt a hand on her waist and turned to see Draco leaning in to speak into her ear, needing to shout his words over the music.

"Do you want to dance?"

"What?"

"Do you want to dance?"

"I can't hear you!" she gestured, laughing up at him. She couldn't help but admire his dark trousers and shirt combination and the way his eyes glinted in the green, flashing light. He shook his head with a smirk and pulled her in close, one hand grasping her waist, the other her hand. She could feel him smiling into her hair.

A jolt of electricity ran up her spine, a heat deep within her body roaring to life. She could feel every contour of his body as he held her close, the warmth of his hand against her cool skin. The smell of his cologne… no, he wasn't wearing any… it was him, she deduced. She leant into him as they swayed and turned, a flutter entering her stomach when she imagined him trailing kisses along her neck.

Without thinking, Hermione pressed her hips against his, closing any gap they had. His grip on her waist tightened immediately. Drunkenly, she suspected she could feel his manhood pressing against her stomach but couldn't care less if it was.

Hermione ghosted her face against his cheek to gaze up at him through her lashes. His stormy eyes drifted languidly down from her dark ones to rest on her teeth plucking at her bottom lip. His eyes returned to hers, and Hermione felt as if time had slowed despite her erratic beating heart. He wet his bottom lip slightly and leaned in, pressing her to him, to kiss her high on her cheek close to her temple. His warm breath drew a sensitive trail on her skin. It was enough for Hermione to grant him access to move along her jaw and neck, tilting her head so that he would.

Hermione was yanked backwards suddenly. She came face-to-face with a giggling Parvati, who started pulling Hermione towards the exit of the Slytherin Common Room.

"I think it's time for bed, Hermy," she laughed, and they ran as quietly as they could down the corridor so they could talk. "Your own bed that is," she whispered loudly and drunkenly when they passed Professor Slughorn's quarters.

"Did you see me? I was dancing with bloomin'…" hissed Hermione, her cheeks turning tomato red because she couldn't finish her sentence.

"Oh, I saw alright," Parvati said naughtily. "You would've gone a lot further than that too. Don't worry; I won't tell anyone that you're a saucy little minx!"

"Did you just call me Hermy?" Hermione exclaimed, swatting Parvati.

"HERMY?!" Parvati howled in laughter. Hermione slapped her hand over her friend's mouth and shushed her loudly. They somehow managed to get back to Gryffindor Tower after many falls, giggles and outbursts. It was a wonder how no one came along to give them detention for being out of bed.


	24. Chapter 24

**Hello! This is a short one.**

 **I've finished watching Big Little Lies – If you haven't seen it I would definitely suggest that you do (contains sex, violence, non-con). It's beautifully directed, acted and the soundtrack is stunning. Just to let you know it is a "WIP" and Season 2 won't be out till next year or so, but you won't forget this one.**

 **Also, read The Right Thing To Do (dramione) because that it a type of wonderful that hooks you and steals your mind!**

 **Thank you for the reviews and follows, you don't know how surprised I am to see the notifications are for me and not other stories i'm following. You guys are like a drug..**

 **Also to the Guest who checks this story almost every day – You made me drop my cereal box on the floor when I read that one!**

 **Right, I better stop writing or else this author's note will be longer than the chapter! Enjoy.**

 **–Tooxi**

* * *

"I've never seen it this bad," someone whispered.

"I'm surprised too. You would have thought she'd be the first up this morning."

"It's twelve-thirty," the first person laughed.

"Fuck, I only woke up half an hour ago… quite hungry actually," replied the second.

"Wasn't last night brilliant? Did you see Neville?" asked a third. "He had his tongue down Hannah Abbott's throat half the night."

Hermione stirred, suddenly aware that her head was throbbing in pain. Why did they have to disturb her sleep and make her feel desperate for some water? Her eyes felt like they weighed a tonne, glued together and dry. She only wanted to sleep…

"I saw you leave with Hermione, so I'm guessing nothing major happened with Blaise?"

"Mm," hummed the third voice. "I thought I would give Zabini a run for his money and make him work for it. Hogsmeade is coming up soon – I'm hoping he'll ask me for a drink then but… Merlin is he a good kisser. Honestly, I wish I could share his lips with you all."

"I'd rather not," replied the second voice which sounded quite masculine to Hermione's ears.

Hermione cracked open her eyes with great difficulty and blanched at the bright light streaming through her open curtains. She moaned and pulled herself up into a sitting position, feeling her duvet slide off of her.

"Oh! Hermione" squeaked Ginny who rushed to grab a blanket from Parvati's bed and throw it over her hungover friend's head.

"What was that for?" croaked Hermione, pulling the blanket off of her. Her voice had gone, and her throat felt so incredibly dry like she had swallowed sand.

"Harry's here!"

"So? Harry's alright, isn't he?" Hermione kept her eyes shut as she held her head.

"You've already seen Hermione in her bra?" came Ginny's accusatory voice.

"N-no," stuttered Harry, "never, I promise! Well, I suppose this is the first ti–"

"Stop staring, you perv!"

A big sweeping thud came, and Hermione watched as Ginny pulled back a pillow and threatened Harry with it again. He cowered under her attack with his hands held high above his head. Hermione got a great whiff of alcohol and felt a wave of nausea hit her stomach, giving her vertigo.

"I'm not staring!" Harry beseeched, sounding incredulous.

"What are you all on about," moaned Hermione.

"You only took half of your dress off," chortled Parvati as she pushed Hermione in the arm, making her tumble onto her side. The group were sent bursting into laughter when Parvati snorted. It took Hermione all of thirty seconds to realise that she was, indeed, undressed from the waist up. She was bare save her black, lacy bra. She quickly pulled the blanket up to her chest.

"How did this happen?" she asked, horrified.

"You couldn't stop laughing when you saw Ron passed out on the couch and decided to strip in the Common Room but I stopped you. I think you're one of those people that once you've had your last drink, it's not how drunk you'll be by the time you get home."

"Oh, I saw Ron too!" Ginny grinned, "did you see he had taken his trousers off? Too funny." She wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye.

"Thanks for not helping me carry him up those stairs by the way!" squawked Harry as he remembered the evening.

"Harry, you're a wizard," Hermione pointed out as she reached for the glass of water by her bed; the house elves must have felt pity for her.

"I tried that," he coughed. Ginny giggled and pushed Harry off of Hermione's bed as she laughed at a private joke. The two started to wrestle, and in no time Ginny had pinned Harry to the ground, who was desperately trying to avoid Ginny's spit globule from landing on him. "Ginny if you do that, I'm banning you from Quidditch!"

Ginny sucked in her spit. "No!" she gasped deeply. "You wouldn't dare, I'm the best one on the team, and you know that, Harry James Potter."

"I don't know…" Harry sighed but immediately retracted his statement with Ginny proceeded to aim. He managed to release his arm and began tickling Ginny's side. She yelped and sprung off of Harry and took on a karate pose when Harry had pulled himself off of the floor.

"Shall we get some breakfast?" suggested Hermione, watching her two friends play fight. She couldn't deny her hunger even though she was wary of venturing around the castle after memories from the night before began to surface. Hermione remembered the tightly pressed dance with Draco and how intimate it had been. She chewed her lip in consternation, wondering whether anyone other than Parvati had seen the exchange. She was too groggy to even think about what it meant for her, let alone what other people might say.

"It's almost one p.m.; we've already had our breakfast," Parvati commented. Hermione nodded her relief away. She wouldn't have to face any pointed faces just yet.

"I've lost half a day," Hermione groaned and fell back onto her pillow, annoyed that she couldn't fit more study time into her day.

"We thought we would just chill today – play some chess or read," suggested Harry. He and Ginny had ceased their fire, although their eyes kept shifting towards the other in anticipation of another attack.

"I can do my homework while you do that – perfect!" Hermione beamed as she shooed Harry out of the room so she could shower and change.

"I'll head to the Kitchens to tell the house elves to bring us up some lunch," called Ginny, who had followed her boyfriend out the door.

A thought occurred to Hermione, "How did Harry manage to get up the staircase?"

Parvati grinned. "Ginny had to carry him."

* * *

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck-ety, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Draco held his head in his hands and massaged his temples. He growled another "Fuck," before swinging his legs over the side of his bed.

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine," chorused Blaise, who threw a pillow directly into Draco's face. "You're not usually this grumpy after a night; I'm guessing Astoria didn't put out."

Draco caught the pillow and flung it back at Blaise with an audible thump, pushing him off of his bed. Greg guffawed until he saw the expression on his friend's face. Draco rummaged through his bedside table for a hangover potion and found one of the small vials almost immediately.

"I'm such a fucking idiot," seethed Draco. He swigged from the bottle and felt his head clear and energy pulse through him.

"Did you forget to cast the contraception spell? Got me a little spooked last week when I forgot but Millie had cast it instead," Theo recounted. Draco shook his head lightly and closed his eyes before standing up to announce his news.

"I kissed Granger last night," he huffed.

"You kissed Granger?" Theo asked in disbelief.

"Well, sort of – I mean she was grinding against me and bit her lip, and I fucking leant in and kissed her stupid cheek."

"Ha! What? You kissed her cheek. Pussy," Theo roared. "I had no idea she had those legs; Merlin's buttocks they were nice pins. If you hadn't kissed her fucking cheek," chuckled Theo, "I would've had her legs on my shoulders."

Draco winced at his friend's abrasiveness. Okay, he didn't think kissing Granger was that big of a deal, he just wondered what the repercussions would be. He felt a bubble of jealousy in his stomach but pushed it out of the way.

"Do you like her?" asked Greg, as he changed out of his pyjamas.

"I–" hesitated Draco. "I–I don't know, I guess, not really, no but… but she's a fucking Mudblood! If she hadn't of ground her fucking hips into my cock, I wouldn't have looked twice at her," Draco conceded, knowing full well that he was lying straight through his teeth. "I mean she looked good, but it's Granger!"

Blaise whistled a descending tune before smacking Draco on the back. "Weren't you snogging Astoria last night?"

"Yeah, I kissed her too," Draco grumbled, unsure of where his head was.

"Must be difficult to have women at your feet," sighed Blaise.

"Okay let's get this straight. You and Hermione didn't kiss. You pecked her on the cheek, and she did – what?"

"She left," admitted Draco, as he pulled on a white shirt and grabbed a new pair of boxers and some clean trousers.

"She left? Mate that sounds pretty dire for your mouth-to-cheek skills" smirked Theo.

"Piss off, Nott," growled Draco. "I don't need her running off before I get things finished. Plus, she's with the Weasel."

"Plus, she's with the Weasel!" exclaimed Theo, howling with laughter. Draco froze from fixing his hair in the mirror on the wall to give Theo a murderous glance. His friend's mood was far too jovial for his liking this morning.

"I already pulled up my trousers, no need to open your mouth," Draco shot back, finishing his preening by using his wand to shave his stubble.

Blaise laughed heartily, as he pulled Theo in to rub his head and the two boys left the room. Draco and Greg followed close behind, the four of them heading to breakfast – it was quite early for a Sunday – eight-twenty a.m.

Some students from the party were stuffing their faces with a Full-English, holding tightly to their coffees. ' _Amateurs_ ,' thought Draco as he strolled to the Slytherin table, freshly pressed and handsome to boot. Despite the morning's revelations, Draco felt and looked great, and he was prepared to face Granger as soon as she walked through the double-oak doors. He briefly wondered if anyone had seen them last night, but he doubted anyone would want to confront the Death Eater other than his friends, with whom he was confident he could explain away any comments.

He grabbed a grapefruit and sliced it, sprinkling sugar on the wedges. He poured himself an Earl Grey tea, with a dash of milk and waited for the morning post to arrive in – Draco checked his watch – "now."

In swooped several screeching owls delivering various articles, letters, packages and newspapers to the few students in the hall. Draco didn't receive mail from his mother anymore, so he wasn't expecting his owl, Leo, to come soaring down but he was waiting for the Daily Prophet to arrive.

He paid the travel owl and stretched out the broadsheet over the table. Theo and Blaise engaged in casual conversation about one of the Patil twins, whichever one it was he pulled the night before, and Greg was talking to Millie and Tracey.

If he was honest with himself, Draco was trying to distract himself from thinking of a particular Gryffindor, who procured unwitting emotions within him. He felt his cock twitch as he remembered the feel of her waist in his hands and the way her body curved so well with his, and the plumpness of her bottom. Draco shuffled in his seat, persevering in reading the articles in front of him.

He remembered she had bitten her lip and daringly sent him desirous eyes. Draco felt his trousers tighten; he adjusted his collar, his eyes dancing over the words he wasn't retaining. He glanced up to check who had just entered the room – Michael Corner and Terry Boot. He flicked back to the newspaper.

Another scan of the room brought the faces of one of the Patil twins, Luna and a girl in her year who Draco pulled in his fifth year but couldn't remember her name. Draco took a sip of his tea.

In came that Abbott girl alongside big-balls-Longbottom as Draco liked to quip because since the war the boy had seriously grown a pair. Another ten minutes and Draco had finished his grapefruit and poured himself some more tea.

Pansy and Astoria came in next, bouncing down the aisle to sit opposite Draco, gossiping and chattering about the party. Draco nodded vaguely to them but remained stoic. Daphne came in looking solemn and sat on the far side near Tracey; something had happened between her and Pansy, but Draco only found the distraction a nuisance. He had to extend his head to see the entrance now, and so often felt the need to stretch a phantom sore neck.

A few first, second and third years entered. Draco was starting to become impatient if he had to describe the rise of tension in his stomach. He swore under his breath when he looked up again for a sixth time to see the Fat Friar jiggle his enormous, cloudy belly at an unamused Bloody Baron.

Finally! Draco dipped his head, scanning his newspaper as if he found it particularly enthralling that morning. Potter, Weasel and his sister, the Irish one and the black guy – whatever their names were strolled in proudly. Then the other twin, Parvati, recalled Draco as he recognised her. Another Gryffindor girl too. 'Just like a pride of lions' thought Draco, with a sneer. He kept his gaze low but was surprised when he didn't see Granger arrive for breakfast.

He waited for five – ten – fifteen – twenty minutes, but the stubborn witch was nowhere to be seen. Was she avoiding him? The Gryffindors rose together, and all walked off again as if they actually were a group of lions moving through the savannah. So, Granger hadn't turned up for breakfast – that was interesting. Draco had half a mind to stay a little longer to wait for her to arrive or to send her an owl, asking her if she hadn't choked on her vomit.

Annoyingly, the Slytherin Quidditch team had a practice that morning, and so Draco was dragged out of the hall to the pitch for a couple of hours until lunch.

Arriving into the hall with his jersey still on his back – not bothering to change – Draco was exasperated to find that none of the usual Gryffindor's had turned up for lunch!

Was he going to have to wait until dinner to see her?

Draco spent the afternoon in the Library with the idea that he was going to work on the essays he needed to complete. As fool proof as that plan was, he had to admit at some point that he was also trying to increase his chances of seeing the bookworm. She hadn't surfaced all day, and it was not until dinner time when he got any glimpse of her.

And there she was, laughing and bantering with her group, her laugh carrying over to the Slytherin table. Draco acted nonchalantly, making jokes of his own to entice his crowd to laughter, but it was always just short of her voice carrying across the room. He rather liked the way she had her hair tied up in a bun, and her over-sized jumper looked flattering on her slender frame. Draco stole glances as often as what appeared normal. The people around him were gossiping so much now, engrossed in new conversation, that Draco felt they wouldn't notice if he paid attention elsewhere.

For some reason, this girl – no, woman – had managed to turn him into a pile of dung. When he saw her last night, it wasn't just how she looked with her smile, but her shining confidence. She wasn't nervous to be around him like he was, she didn't appear to have been waiting like he had, she didn't rush into the party to see him like he did. He felt like a fool last night, so he had tried to rectify it and to redeem himself, and she threw it in his face by taking control, _again_.

But his mood was short-lived; Granger and her ginger boyfriend got up after dinner to go Merlin knows where to do Merlin knows what. His impatience got the better of him – was he just sitting there seeking validation from the girl who he found attractive (and by Dumbledore's ghost, did he think that with a trepidatious heart) but who hadn't acknowledged him since he had kissed her cheek the night before?

He felt another pang of jealousy hit him and knew it was unjustified this time. This was a relationship he couldn't wiggle his way in between. Why had he done it? Why had he asked her to dance, allowed her to press closely to him, let himself smell her hair, to grip her body and tempt the tension between them? He could blame it on the alcohol, but that was an unfair argument because he knew what he had been doing. He knew so painfully well what he was doing. Did she know what she had been doing? Ignoring him, or simply not thinking of Draco at all, was an indication that she regretted it. Or perhaps she hadn't remembered the exchange at all.

Draco shot up from the bench, amid the shock of his peers at his sudden departure and stalked down the Great Hall.

"Where you off to mate?" Theo called.

"To have a smoke," imparted Draco, with a darkening scowl on his sharp face. He muttered small extremities to himself as he made his way to the Astronomy Tower, knowing he didn't even have any cigarettes on him. In fact, he hadn't thought of one all day. Seeing her in front of him after all of these hours, he realised that he didn't particularly care about the Sigil. All he wished for at that moment was to have an intellectual conversation with Granger instead of hearing what Parvati's underwear looked like or who pulled who at the party.

Or imagining Hermione in a Charms classroom with Weasley.


End file.
